Everything's Changed
by Noelerin
Summary: What if Saruman entered the field after Gandalf escaped? R&R, please? It Lives! Chapters 10the end have been added. Thanks to all my reviewers. I appreicate the comments a lot.
1. Chapter One

Title: Alternative World  
  
Rating: G, for the moment.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of Tolkien and his publishers.  
  
Distribution: I don't have a homepage. If you want it, you can ask.  
  
Isengard:  
  
Saruman sat on his throne, rather impatient with the way things were going. Now that Gandalf knew he was no longer exactly loyal to the higher powers, he had even less time to waste. The aching press of the ring was growing in his soul and it was getting harder to ignore it's siren's call. Sauron was growing suspicious of him, proving his loyalty to him was something that gnawed at this normally proud man.  
  
And Wormtongue was wearying him with his demands about the Lady Eowyn. Though he could not see why he would become entangled with any woman. They were, for the most part, rather silly and shallow creatures-easily interchangeable one with another.  
  
Edoras:  
  
Wormtongue knew of Saruman's growing displeasure with the situation. And with Eowyn's image ever haunting his mind, he knew he must do something. The problem was with Theoden. He was taking to long to die of despair. His nephew was now out of the way, having been imprisoned for talking back to his uncle about his lack of resistance against the orc attacks.  
  
Among his possession was a clear liquid and, after a quiet dinner, he poured it into Theoden's evening drink. He was not worried about an inquiry, the king was old and everyone would believe that he had died peacefully during the night.  
  
When morning came, Theoden was found by Eowyn. The official report that went out among the people was that he had died of natural causes.  
  
Eowyn was suspicious, there was just to many circumstances that put Wormtongue in power for it to be a coincidence. But there was nothing she could do. Cut off from her brother, from any kind of hope of aid from their allies, she would have to bear it.  
  
Honor would not allow her to leave her people to slavery under the temporary rule of Wormtongue.  
  
No. She must stay.  
  
And she would do whatever it took to help them-even marry the snake in the grass if she had to.  
  
Isengard:  
  
Saruman fingered the paper in his hands, eyes narrowed. He did not like what Wormtongue had done, there was too much at stake. How, he wondered, do I repair the damage? It was a problem that plagued his mind as he rode to Edoras.  
  
Looking up, he noticed Lady Eowyn first.  
  
Carefully appraising her, he was a little surprised to see her not flinch but throw back her head proudly and meet his eyes head on, unafraid of him. Dignified, he thought. Oddly beautiful. I can see why she became something of an obsession to him. Behind her, or so it appeared at first glance, waited Wormtongue.  
  
"Saruman the wise. Have you come to help us?" Eowyn asked, proud of her calm voice and cold expression.  
  
In the face of such imperious calm, Saruman almost didn't catch the unspoken, 'or harm us?'. "I come to offer my sincerest condolences for your recent bereavement, Lady Eowyn, and to offer you any assistance you may require."  
  
"Thank you." Frosty. "There is something I would ask of you."  
  
"I am at your service."  
  
She assessed him, weighing her words carefully. "If you have time, may be you could find a way to release my brother Eomer from the dungeons. He should be here to greet you but my uncle never relented and he is not."  
  
Concealing his thought that the only way the youth would leave would be on a stretcher or to insane to be a true threat, he smiled. "I shall see what I can do. It should be no problem since Lord Eomer was an honorable man, most likely imprisoned in a fit of rage. Leave it to me, Lady Eowyn."  
  
Though far from beguiled by him, she bowed her head. "Again, I thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, I will prepare rooms for you and your men."  
  
A stiff, barely polite curtsy, and she left them alone to make their way inside.  
  
Later:  
  
"I do not understand why you wait, the city is ripe for the taking."  
  
"It is not mine until the acknowledged heir-Lord Eomer-is dead." Hard.  
  
Wormtongue blanched. "A little time alone with him and your problem is solved."  
  
Cutting look. "Don't be a fool. Another death this close to Theoden's would cause more problems than solve them. It would be extremely suspicious and tip the precarious balance I have established."  
  
"You are right, as always. Forgive me." Tentative. "About my prize?"  
  
Saruman slinked towards him, focusing his piecing eyes upon him, pinning him in place. "Ah, yes. I did promise you the Lady Eowyn."  
  
Wormtongue gasped as pain exploded in his chest. "Why?" He asked, staring at the knife in disbelief.  
  
"You are a traitor. And, as such, untrustworthy. I cannot have you about, waiting in the wings to betray me." Pause. "Besides, I have plans for the Lady Eowyn."  
  
The body dropped to the floor soundlessly. Ghostly pale and lax face emphasized the death in his eyes.  
  
Saruman didn't even glance at the body in distaste. One of his servants took the body away after giving him the knife. He sighed, "I do hate physical violence."  
  
Plans indeed, he thought. The boy is easily disposed of, death in battle and skirmishes an all to common thing these days. But the girl, she poses the real threat. Dead, she'd be a martyr and rallying cry for the people.  
  
The same with imprisonment or banishing her. Remove her from their sight, but not in death, and hope remains for her to return to somehow claim the kingdom. He was no fool, he could see that they would follow her gladly. It was not unheard of for a woman in Rohan to inherit the throne, their women being seen as equals to the males and clearly able to hold offices of high rank.  
  
He rubbed his head. So, what to do with Lady Eowyn. Alive she would be a threat...unless, but that was unthinkable. Unheard of. Then again, he'd already burned his bridges behind him and she wasn't that unappealing to him. What was one more broken rule as long as he came out on top?  
  
The idea had merit. A slow smile crossed his face as he looked around. Yes, soon this would all be his.  
  
Dungeon:  
  
Eowyn was unlocking the cell door and talking hurriedly with Eomer. "I don't trust this Saruman. You must leave before he does something to you."  
  
He shook his head, dirty hair hardly moving. "I am not going to leave you alone to deal with this."  
  
Why not? She thought bitterly, you've done so before. But the words didn't pass her lips. "Eomer, you'll be no good to any one of us dead. Leave and get help, it is Rohan's only chance of survival."  
  
"From where?" He clearly heard the undercurrent in his sister's words as if they'd been shouted. And he winced at the truth in them, feeling guilty for leaving her behind again. "All of Middle-Earth is besieged."  
  
"Offer aid in exchange for their help and hurry back. Your horse and men are awaiting you even now at our spot. Faster, he might even now be coming to see you. Or sending that horrid Wormtongue to check on us even now." She urged him.  
  
Quickly they departed the dark of the dungeons and entered the labyrinth under the hill. It was long forgotten and in need of repair but it served their needs. "Come with us." He pleaded, hand on his reigns. The horse snorted, pawing the ground nervously.  
  
She shook her head. "Eomer, I cannot. Our people need me to be their hope, their light."  
  
"But you'll be crushed by this Saruman. I've heard if him. He isn't like Wormtongue, content to hide in the shadows and poison the mind slowly. And the creature desires you, I fear what he will do to you now that uncle is gone and the wizard is here. He is no Gandalf though they be of the same order." And that was saying much because Eomer never really trusted the gray wizard.  
  
"I can live through anything so long as I know that you are out there, gaining aid for us, dearest brother."  
  
Hugging her tightly, he stroked her hair. "I won't be gone long, I promise."  
  
"Make me no promises." Forcing herself to let go and step back. "Just stay alive."  
  
"Don't lose yourself in whatever cage he will try to build around you." Eomer said, mounting the horse.  
  
They rode away then, leaving behind them their lands and families, heading into an uncertain future.  
  
"Keep control of your temper!" She called after him. His sudden laugh and the smile he sent her warmed her heart.  
  
The last thing she heard was his order of "To Gondor!". When they had disappeared, she turned and went inside, holding the warmth of his laugh close to her. 


	2. Chapter Two

Part 2  
  
As Eomer and his men rode towards Gondor, he couldn't forget his sister's face. She was braver than he. He chose to fight a physical enemy, she chose to stand against an invisible one. Though he knew she burned to take up the sword again as many of their women had, yearned for the chance to prove herself in battle, she remained behind.  
  
Sometimes, he thought, it takes more courage to stay than go. I wonder if she'll ever be able to see that?  
  
They were surprised to meet Boromir and his men escorting a diplomatic party. "Hail, friend. Are you on your way to Edoras?"  
  
"I am afraid not. We are going to a meeting in Rivendell. Surely you've heard of it and are on your way there as well?" Boromir answered, riding to the head of the Rohan men to talk with him.  
  
Eomer's head shook. "I was unaware of any meeting. Uncle has been unwilling, and unable, to participate in the world's affairs and even that of his own country's. I am sorrowful but relieved to say that he has found peace in death."  
  
"My sincerest condolences on your loss. King Theoden was a great man and a wonderful king."  
  
"Thank you." They rode in companionable silence for a while. "We were riding to Gondor to offer and ask for aid but I believe that we might benefit more if we attend this meeting."  
  
Boromir nodded. "You are more than welcome to join us. Truth to tell, it would be nice to have someone along who will understand me and my thoughts."  
  
"I would appreciate that myself. It has been a long time since I have been in the company of good men."  
  
"Excellent. We plan to ride for a bit longer, unless you are to weary to continue?" He paused and looked at the blonde man, who shook his head.  
  
With a laugh, Eomer explained. "We are men of the Riddermark, riding is in our blood. Have no fear for us."  
  
Silence again, save for the sound of the horses movements. They made camp and ate. Relaxing near the flames, the conversation turned again towards the meeting. "Have you ever been to Rivendell?" Eomer asked, leaning back against a rock.  
  
"No. All I know is that the elves consider it their last haven on Middle-Earth. Lord Elrond, who invited us, is the leader of the community. From all I've heard, he is decent and fair if a bit aloof." Boromir tried to keep his worry of the unknown out of his voice and partially succeeded.  
  
"He is an elf." Pause. "Who else is going to be there?"  
  
"Other than the obvious answer of us? I believe that we shall see dwarves and probably elves from their other communities. Gandalf the gray and others of his order will be there as well."  
  
Gandalf, I will need to speak to him first, the blonde man thought. "I wonder if he can tell me about Saurman the White."  
  
Boromir had been watching him, surprised by the pensive look on his face. "Who?"  
  
"Saruman the White. I've never heard of him either. He just showed up one day after uncle's death, offering help. Grima Wormtongue knew him." Eomer elaborated, chewing on a blade of grass.  
  
"I see." There was a wealth of understanding and revulsion in his voice. "How is your sister?"  
  
Sigh. "You know Eowyn. She seems fine, but I can't shake the feeling that she's dying inside. She is fighting against it."  
  
"Well, she is your sister and a shield maid." He pointed out. "Still, I can't believe you left her behind."  
  
"I didn't want to. Eowyn told me to go. And you know what she's like."  
  
Boromir nodded, smiling a little. "I do. Remember her first sword lesson with us?"  
  
"Were she knocked you flat on your butt?" He teased.  
  
Cuffing his ear, the Gondorian laughed. "To be fair if I hadn't written her off as just a girl, it wouldn't have happened."  
  
"I'm sure if you keep telling yourself that, you'll believe it. She's defeated me to, Boromir."  
  
The Gondor man nodded, then looked around. "Whose on first watch?"  
  
"We are." Two men stood up and moved towards him.  
  
"Good. Keep a steady watch and wake me and Eomer..." Questioning glance, answered in the affirmative, "in six hours. Everyone else, get as much rest as you can. But have your sword in easy reach, we are living in uncertain times. We leave early in the morning." He warned.  
  
Quiet ride. Eomer and Boromir spent much of it reminiscing.  
  
Flight to the Ford:  
  
Frodo fought the pull but it was getting stronger. They were calling him and he turned towards them, pale eyed. So inviting and strangely beautiful, but cold and threatening.  
  
"Fight them!" A voice harshly said, shaking him.  
  
He tried. But he was tired, really tired. And they looked so strong, so peaceful. Stinging slap brought his eyes to his benefactor.  
  
Worried face, light surrounded this one too. A different light, no less strong. "Don't yield to them."  
  
Tired.  
  
"Fight. For your friends, for Bilbo." Pleading voice.  
  
Bilbo? A beloved face superceded the one he was looking at. Uncle, loved me.  
  
"For Gandalf."  
  
Gandalf? Friend, wondrous fireworks. Trusted me with this.  
  
"For your hobbit friends."  
  
Sam? Merry? Pippin? Believed in me.  
  
Shaking eased. A sigh of relief. The arms tightened, they crossed the water.   
  
Stopped and turned to them.   
  
Miscalculation.   
  
The rider was hit. Horse leaped into action.   
  
The water swirled, carried the dark away.  
  
Long ride. Frightening. Couldn't see where they were going.  
  
"I was worried about you." A pleasant voice ended on a note of fear.  
  
Orders given.  
  
Separation.  
  
Clinging to the arms.  
  
Frightened again.  
  
Darkness beckoned.  
  
Yielding.  
  
Blissful silence.  
  
Light pierced through his eyes and he opened them, seeing Gandalf sitting beside him. "How do you feel?"  
  
"Gandalf?" He tried to smile and found that he couldn't. "Tired."  
  
"We nearly lost you." He murmured, carefully concealling his worry. "Thanks to the skills of Lord Elrond, you are safe."  
  
"Lord Elrond?"  
  
"Yes, Frodo Baggins." Low, melodious voice from somewhere beyond his line of vision. "Welcome to Rivendell."  
  
Confused. "I heard you, when we arrived." Paled as memory hit him. "The rider, how is he?"  
  
Pain quickly hid. "Don't worry. He got as much attention as you but, as an elf, needs more time to recover from the poison. Though I wish it were otherwise, you probably will not see him before you leave."  
  
"Where am I going?"  
  
Before he could be answered, the door opened and a familiar voice called out gladly. "Master Frodo!"  
  
"Sam." Relieved.  
  
"We were so worried about you and you wouldn't wake for so long. It figures you would when I was out of the room." Lightly reproachful, yet the feel of the strong grip on his hand was reassuring.  
  
"How are the others?" Frodo asked, smiling weakly.  
  
"Don't you worry about them, they are fine. Pippin's enjoying all the fine food they have offered him. And Merry is being himself." It was said with amusement and a hint of disbelief.  
  
Amused, yet sorry eyes turned towards Elrond. "I'm sorry if my friends have been causing you any problems. I know that they have a tendency to be a handful."  
  
"Think nothing of it, Frodo. It has been a long time since unrestrained laughter has been heard in our home. I consider it a gift to have them here. For all my healing abilities, laughter truly is the best healer." Then his voice firmed. "But now, Mr. Baggins, you need to rest."  
  
Barely covering his yawn, he nodded, curling into the covers.  
  
"Will he be all right?" Sam asked, voice hovering on the edge of Frodo's consciousness.  
  
Exchanging a glance with Gandalf, Elrond took a moment to answer. "His wound will never truly recover, the evil penetrated him to deeply. But, yes, he will be all right."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
The elf just nodded. "Gandalf, a moment of your time?"  
  
"I'll be right there." They watched him walk out. "Sam, he doesn't know anything about the one who saved him. Don't tell him."  
  
"I don't know, Mr. Gandalf, I think he needs to know." The hobbit felt out of his depth, this didn't seem right. And he didn't want to keep anything from his friend. Still, Gandalf understood the nature of the wound better and wouldn't ask him to keep quiet for no reason.  
  
"And he will be told-when he is strong enough to bear it. I fear if he is told now, he will feel guilty for it. That he will not fight against the dark touch as he should." Gandalf assured him, knowing what was on Sam's mind.  
  
"Well, I still don't like it." Sam studied his hands for a moment, then met the understanding eyes of the wizard. "But I will do as you say."  
  
He smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Sam. I best see what our host wants." Rising, he went out and shut the door behind him. Please, pull through, Frodo. I will never forgive myself if you don't.  
  
*  
  
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Author's Note: I don't think Saurman was as well-known as Gandalf because he didn't travel. He seemed to stay at Orthanc and study, was content to be there. Frodo not knowing he was rescued by Arwen-or Glorfindel-I believe he thought that was a vision. He was not all there because of the poison in the king's blade. Does that make sense? 


	3. Chapter Three

Part 3.  
  
"How is your daughter doing?" Gandalf asked once they were sequestered in Elrond's study.  
  
"Arwen's holding on, she has more strength than I sometimes give her credit for. She's been having some, I hesitate to say visions, but that seems to be what they are. The palantirs have revealed themselves to her, she's has seen the one in Gondor clearly."  
  
"Anything we should know about?"  
  
Elrond shook his head. "Not at the moment. Gandalf, I hesitate to use my daughter as a tool to spy on the enemy, she deserves better."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"Does the hobbit know?" He cut off the question, knowing that the Istari would know what he referring to.  
  
"No. I have asked Sam to keep quiet until he is strong enough to bear that knowledge."  
  
Relieved sigh, then he became serious. "I've heard some disturbing news about Saruman's recent activities. Did you know that King Theoden died?"  
  
"What?" Disbelief. "He seemed, not well but certainly not on death's door when last I visited him."  
  
Elrond nodded. "Yes. Just after your escape, I believe. Saruman is currently ensconced in Edoras."  
  
Gandalf sat down heavily.  
  
"Precisely." Succinctly. "The ring cannot stay here any longer. Time is growing short."  
  
"Frodo has borne the ring long enough. It would be grossly unfair for us to expect him to continue to carry it for us. As strong as he is, even that strength will falter."  
  
"He has shown himself to be resilient to the ring's power. Look at Bilbo. Though he has fallen in later years, it took the ring sixty years to accomplish that. And he has been able to release it. Gandalf, you know that neither one of us could touch the ring and let it go. It would scar us." Elrond stated, not unkindly.  
  
"True. But this world is to be man's once all the elves have departed. It should be in their hands."  
  
"It was man that betrayed our trust in the beginning by allowing the ring to remain." Biting. Harsh. "I was there, Gandalf. It was I who led Isildur to Mount Doom. I told him to destroy the ring. He did not."  
  
"Still, it should be up to them to right this mistake." The Istari was calm.  
  
"Man betrayed us once before, I have no confidence in them to make it right." Bitter.  
  
"Betrayed us?" Gandalf repeated, but something was off about Elrond's expression. "Or betrayed you? Do you feel that you are to blame?"  
  
Elrond glared but could not hold the steady gaze of the Istari. "Is that it? You feel that you could have, should have, done more?"  
  
"That isn't it at all, Gandalf."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"I had hoped that man, who at that time was akin to us elves, would have the power to resist what I knew we could not. Even then, the ring had a strength, a will of its own. It tried to reach out to me. I could not approach Isildur for fear of what I might be compelled to do. You've seen it, Gandalf, the beauty in its simplicity. I hear it calling me even now. I am shaking with the desire to touch it, to possess it, to use it. Does that surprise you? Why?" He had caught the startled expression on his friend's face and looked at him, somewhat curiously.  
  
"You did not show any desire for it when it fell into your hands. I watched you drop it into an open drawer and shut it tight." He explained.  
  
Sitting down, Elrond stared out at his home. "My daughter and the hobbit needed my care. They called to me, they needed my help. Yet still I heard it. If they had not arrived as needful of my healing touch, I fear Frodo would be in more danger from me than he should be."  
  
Gandalf was quiet, thinking. "I do not condemn you, friend. I, too, have experienced the ring's power. But we cannot ask it of Frodo to continue to carry it when there is another who can, and should, take the ring."  
  
"Gandalf, you know as I do that he has chosen exile."  
  
Rising, he joined his friend on the balcony, resting his hand on his shoulder. "He is still a man, though he denies it. We cannot continue to shelter and protect him. The world needs him. More importantly, he needs the world, deny it though he will."  
  
Together they watched as their guests arrived. The Gondorians came first, followed quickly by the elves of Mirkwood. Surprised, they recognized the men of Rohan among those of Gondor. "I received word that they weren't coming. What changed their minds? And why would Saruman allow it?"  
  
Gandalf pointed to one of the men. "That one beside Boromir is Eomer, nephew of Theoden. A bit head strong but loves his people with the ferocity of a mother bear. I think he's the reason for their arrival."  
  
"Head strong?" Elrond queried. "And with dwarves around. Wonderful. This should be most entertaining."  
  
"Look at it this way, it's a chance to show off those diplomatic skills you are so fond of." Gandalf teased. They watched as the final party arrived. The dwarves walked into the courtyard, skirting around the elves distastefully. "Ah, I see that Gimli did come. Bilbo will be pleased to see him. But I best warn him to keep quiet, the old hobbit wants to surprise Frodo tonight."  
  
"Off with you then, I must relieve Aragorn and see to Arwen's care." Elrond sat for a moment longer after the wizard had left before moving. "While I agree with you, my friend, I truly believe that Frodo is our best hope." He murmured, watching the meetings that were occurring in his yard,  
  
***  
  
Strider sent one last look at Arwen's pale face before leaving. Walking out into the night, he met up with Legolas. "How are you holding up?" The prince of Mirkwood asked, studying his friend's pale face with something close to concern.  
  
"It's all my fault. I know it, Elrond knows it. I should never have let her ride off with him. There had to have been a way I could've made her stay with the hobbits. Arwen wouldn't be fighting for her soul if I hadn't been so afraid of the Nazgul." He replied, shaking his head.  
  
"My dear friend, do you honestly think you could have stopped Arwen from going? Her father couldn't stop her from taking Glorfindel's place, what make you think you would have done better? Arwen has a will of her own and the courage to exercise it."  
  
He resisted the truth in his friend's words. "I would've found some way. She should not be in this kind of danger."  
  
Legolas sighed, torn between comforting and wanting to smack his friend. "Elessar, Arwen would be in danger no matter what. Surely you haven't been buried so far under the ground that you haven't felt the darkness growing all around us. It touches everything, breathes through all life on Middle-Earth. No one is safe from its touch."  
  
"It is that ring of Sauron's. It will not rest and let us be. I wish it had never been found."  
  
"The evil is more than the ring, my friend." Mild rebuke. "And we are lucky that it was found by someone on our side rather than the enemies."  
  
"I know. But I curse Isildur's stupidity in allowing that ring to be." His fists clenched in anger.  
  
"It is unkind to curse another for their mistake made in ignorance." Then the blue eyes sharpened, directing the conversation into another path. "Is it true, what I heard, that it was found by the half-ling, Bilbo Baggins?"  
  
"Yes. What do you know of Bilbo Baggins?" Elessar asked, curious despite his worry.  
  
Legolas smiled. "My father talks about him with a mixture of respect and disgust."  
  
"I can just imagine." Dry.  
  
"He cannot understand how one with no greed inside can be friends with dwarves. Come to think of it, neither can I."  
  
"Maybe that's because you elves are short sighted and think dwarves care nothing for the outside world." A gruff voice said.  
  
Before Legolas could comment, the dwarf passed them, hearing a familiar voice calling his name.  
  
"Gimli, son of Gloin. It does my heart good to see you. When Gandalf told me he saw you arrive, I could scarcely believe it." An elderly hobbit, gracefully aged, walked out to meet him.  
  
"Bilbo Baggins! I am glad to see you, it will be a relief to have intelligent company around me-Gandalf aside." They embraced like the old friends they were. "When are you going to tire of these feather heads and visit us?"  
  
"Not for a while, if ever, I fear. These old bones don't hold up on travel as they once used to." He sighed, fondly recalling the days when he had pep.  
  
"Nonsense. It is just the company you keep that robs you of your natural strength." Gimli caught sight of Gandalf watching them, an amused smile on his face. "The exception being Gandalf, of course."  
  
"How kind." Gandalf said, coming to stand between the two pairs. "I'm sure your host will be most interested to hear your appraisal of his character."  
  
"Lord Elrond is all right, as far as elves go. My father likes him and speaks of him with unusual fondness. But I fear he is the exception, not the rule."  
  
Bilbo shook his head, well aware of the dwarvish dislike of the elves and vice versa. "Come, let me show you what I've done."  
  
Gandalf turned when he felt eyes upon him. Eomer was staring at him. "Go on. I will join you later."  
  
"All right, Gandalf." Bilbo finally saw Strider. "Hello, Strider. Nice to see you finally getting some air."  
  
"Bilbo." He acknowledged. "Before you disappear into your room for hours on end, you should meet Legolas. I believe you've met his father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood?"  
  
"Of course I have. How do you do, Prince Legolas?" He asked, ignoring Gimli's derisive snort.  
  
"I do very well, as does my father. He has told me much of you."  
  
Bilbo smiled. "Has he? And I'll bet none of it was very flattering towards me."  
  
"On the contrary, he quite admires you. Not your choice of acquaintances, mind you-save Gandalf." He added, imitating Gimli earlier.  
  
The hobbit shook his head, cutting Gimli off before he could start. "Gentlemen, please, do not quarrel now. There is to be a celebration tonight before serious matters are attended to. And one cannot properly celebrate when angry feelings are present." Bilbo scolded, leading the dwarf away. "I am grateful that he remembers me fondly. I look forward to seeing you later."  
  
They disappeared down one of the corridors, leaving behind Strider and Legolas. "Father was right, there is more to Bilbo Baggins than first meets the eye."  
  
"There is at that. He's very open and not above making observations, but he only shares them if you ask. I made the mistake of asking him what he thought of me. He said that I am gold, though I do not glitter."  
  
Legolas studied his friend. "I am inclined to agree with him. Though you hide what you are, it does not remain hidden."  
  
A movement to their left stopped any reply he might have made. 


	4. Chapter Four

Part 4.  
  
Boromir left his men and approached what had to be the main building. Off to the side, a ranger and an elf stood talking. Taking care not to listen, he walked inside. The pair watched him leave, Strider felt the need to go talk to him. He looked at Gandalf, who subtly nodded his head in the direction Boromir had gone. Whether it was his will or the Istari's, Strider went after Boromir.  
  
Legolas looked between the two, shrugged, and went to find some more agreeable company.  
  
Gandalf watched Strider disappear before turning his full attention back to Eomer. "And he hasn't tried to claim the throne?"  
  
"No. He seems to be waiting for something."  
  
"Your sister is there?" Gandalf pressed, still being gentle.  
  
Eomer nodded, then paled. "You don't think he'd-but that's against your code!"  
  
"I believe that there is nothing that Saruman won't try to attain his goals." Cold.  
  
"And what, exactly, would that be?" Eomer demanded.  
  
Sigh. "I wish that I could say I knew for sure. But I do not."  
  
Eomer bit his tongue, partly out of respect but mostly because he'd never seen the gray wizard at a loss before. No one had. Besides, the wizard had just lost his friend and must feel confused as to what he was supposed to do now. He must feel betrayed as well. "It's all right, Gandalf. We'll figure it out. Isn't that what this meeting is about?"  
  
"Partly. You are a good man, young Eomer." The Istari rested his hand on his shoulder comfortingly.  
  
"I'd like to believe that. But I left my sister behind, once more." It was said with some anger.  
  
"Did you not say that she threw you out?"  
  
"Not exactly," the younger man hedged.  
  
"But she's the one who helped you escape?" Eomer nodded. "Then trust her. She is not totally defenseless. Saruman cannot force her to do his bidding-he couldn't force me. And he knows it." He squeezed his shoulder, then led him into the building. "You must be exhausted and want to rest."  
  
"Actually, I want to write to my sister, let her know what's going on. Are there any kittiwakes around?" He pulled back a bit and looked around, for the first time taking in the place he'd be staying in. For all its enclosure, it was also open.  
  
"Why a kittiwake?" Gandalf was intrigued.  
  
"It may not be fast but that bird's name had protected my sister many times. And it is so unremarkable an animal that it will pass right under Saruman's nose." He explained, unwilling to go into further detail.  
  
Gandalf thought quickly, a plan forming in his mind. "You write the message, see what you can find out-especially about what he has brought with him. I'll get you your birds."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Gandalf shook his head. "No. Thank you. With her information we may yet win this with minimal causalities."  
  
"Do you honestly believe that?" Skeptical.  
  
"I have to or else I'll go mad." Serious.  
  
"My sister would love to help out." Eomer knew his sister, better than he knew himself. This was a way for her to fight back. Eowyn would not back down from the challenge or the danger.  
  
Piercing look. "Is she willing to play such a dangerous role in this?"  
  
"You know my sister. What do you think? Do you honestly believe that she will refuse?" Equally direct.  
  
"May be she should." Quiet.  
  
"She won't." In fact, he thought, the situation would only make Eowyn more determined to see it through.  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of." Ominous.  
  
***  
  
Boromir wandered around the place, drawn to one room more than all others. It was like something was calling to him and he was unable to resist it. He perused the room, occasionally pausing to study the murals that decorated the walls. Some of the stories he knew-such as the final battle against Sauron. Others were new to him, though no less compelling.  
  
At one point, he found himself studying Isildur's face. Noble of face and form, hiding the frailties in human nature. He and his descendents obviously did not care for the fate of Gondor. Why else would they stay away when they were needed?  
  
It was a bitter thought but he knew, unlike his father, that a steward was not what the country needed now. Gondor needed a king. Not just any king, their true king. One who would not be swayed by the ever changing moral tides. A king who would see all of his subjects as equals, holding none above another.  
  
Tell yourself another myth, Boromir. He mocked his foolish fantasy. No such man exists. And if he did, he has shown no inclination to help his people. No honor by removing himself from their sights and their hopes. We will not ask him for the impossible, just that he be there.  
  
He pulled away from Isildur's image and saw a statue. Mournful of face and form, he felt compelled to draw near. It looked so real as it bowed over something. Curious, he approached. "It does exist." Awe. Fear. And he shook to see it. If the sword existed, then the heir must as well.  
  
"So real," he murmured and reached out a tentative hand, but jerked it back.  
  
Don't get your hopes up, Boromir. This king has not bothered to show his face. Has not had the courage to approach and tell you of his presence. Nor does he seem to care that Gondor is under attack. Why do you persist in caring for him? In believing in his existence?  
  
You are too old for such hopes, Boromir. There is no legendary heir waiting in the wings. No one to rescue Gondor from Mordor, just your family as it has always been.  
  
The voice sounded remarkably like his father.  
  
Turning around abruptly, he knocked the sword off the plate. It crashed with two distinct cries of pain-echoing sounds of the past.  
  
Bending down, ashamed of his actions, he picked up the hilt and reached for the blade. Another hand reached it first. He looked up, startled to see the ranger from outside. Up close, he could see that the face was more regal than he'd thought at first. The eyes were kinder than he expected of a man raised to live in the wild.  
  
He looked away, unable to meet those wise eyes. "I didn't mean to disturb it."  
  
"I know. I was watching you, you seemed so far away." The voice was soft, hesitant.  
  
"Yes." Short. Hard. He stood and placed the hilt down reverently.  
  
Strider followed suit. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the open eyes closed, shutting him out. He was losing the moment, a moment that he knew was vital for something. "Would you like to tell me something of what weighs you down, Boromir of Gondor? I am a good listener."  
  
The man of Gondor was not surprised to hear his name on the other man's lips. "Why would a ranger want to know of the troubles plaguing Gondor?"  
  
"Because this ranger is a man of Gondor himself, though he has not set foot in the White City in years." Quiet.  
  
Suspicious eyes studied him. Dawning realization came, followed by anger.  
  
The dark head bowed. "Your instincts do not fail you, Boromir. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn-known to you as Isildur's heir."  
  
Rage. "And you reveal yourself to me now? For what purpose? To gloat over the inefficiencies in our government, to berate us for failing my people?"  
  
Gray eyes closed. "No. I know you to be a good and honorable man. I also believe that you understand fear-especially it relation to doing something you feel unequal to."  
  
"But I have not hid behind that fear as you have." Scornful.  
  
"Had I half your courage, I would have gone to meet my fate gladly. But I do not. And I don't want to be king. I never asked for it!"  
  
In that moment, Boromir saw shades of his brother, Faramir.  
  
'I haven't your strength, Boromir. Why must I bear this burden? Why must I see things?'  
  
He had had no words for his brother then, as he had no words for his king now.  
  
But those eyes pleaded with him for something. His hand rested on the tense shoulder. "Then do not strive for kingship now. Strive to accept yourself, the rest will follow. We do not require perfection, we just ask that you be there for us-willing to bear our sorrows, as well as our joys, with us."  
  
Hesitant smile crossed his face as he studied the man before him. "Gondor loses faith for though we have a steward, my father's rule is failing. He is changed, the darkness grows, and we have no way to fight it. I am not asking for you to take up a burden you do not feel up to shouldering, I am asking that you help us because you can. Whether you believe it or not, it is in your heart and in your eyes."  
  
"There is more honor in men that I had allowed myself to believe." Aragorn murmured, resting his hand on the other man's. "You are a good man, Boromir."  
  
"I give you my word that I shall stand by your side. But I am no elf, I am a man. As such, I have their failings." He left it at that, though he knew that Aragorn heard the unspoken as do you.  
  
"Seek no perfection in me and I will try to do the same for you."  
  
Unspoken, the bond between them was forged.  
  
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Author's Note: Won't someone please review? 


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Note: Thanks, Bex. I wish that I could say that the jerky beginning was some kind of stroke of genius to let one know that this isn't the same as Tolkien's world, but I can't. The truth is, I can't really write a good Saruman and since he starts the piece, it unfortunately shows.  
  
Part 5:  
  
Eomer finished writing his letter and carefully tied it to the bird's leg, hoping his sister remembered their code. "You know where to go, right?"  
  
An affirming chirp was his answer and he released the bird into the sky, whispering, "Good luck."  
  
Turning once the bird had left his sight, he made his way to the feasting hall for the party. But the sounds of merry laughter left him feeling cold and he walked to the stables instead, brushing down his horse. He nickered softly, rubbing his face against the distressed prince's shoulder, as if to ask what was wrong. "I'm worried about Eowyn."  
  
"Do you think it's wise to talk to a horse when you cannot hear their reply?" A soft voice asked.  
  
Eomer whipped around, searching the din for the one who spoke to him.  
  
"Forgive me for startling you. Are you one of the men from Gondor?" The dark haired elf moved away from the door and into his eyesight.  
  
"No, I'm from Rohan. My name is Eomer and you are?"  
  
"How remise of me. I am Elladan, son of your host, Elrond. I have a twin brother, Elrohir, you'll probably meet him at some point." With a smile, he said, "You'll be able to tell the difference between us because I'm the nice one."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"That's what I've been told."  
  
Eomer couldn't help it, he laughed.  
  
Elladan smiled approvingly, "Much better. It's bad for our image to have one of our guests looking so miserable. Who's Eowyn?"  
  
The Rohan prince sat on some hay. Resting his head on his hand, he considered the elf before him carefully. "She's my twin sister."  
  
"And you are worried about her because..." He sat down beside him, watching him.  
  
"I left her back in Edoras with some Istari named Saruman. According to Gandalf, and my own instincts, he isn't one of the good guys. I decided to write to her and ask her to keep an eye on him, see what she can find out about his actions. But Gandalf's got me worried about her being in more danger than she already is. And I can't believe I told you that." He ended with a shocked look. "You don't seem at all surprised by this?"  
  
Elladan shrugged, "I have that affect on people."  
  
"I suppose it gets irritating," he observed.  
  
"Only when I hear something really dull," the elf quipped.  
  
Eomer smiled, "Well, whatever your reason for asking me, thanks. It helped."  
  
"I didn't do much, except escape one long and potentially boring party." He reached out and stroked the horse's nose, "He's a magnificent animal."  
  
"Thank you. We take pride in our horses."  
  
"You have every reason to. I hear they are wonderful for long journeys." Elladan said, moving to sit beside him. Horses had always been something of a passion for him.  
  
He nodded, warming up to his favorite topic eagerly. "We breed them for speed, endurance, and beauty."  
  
***  
  
Days later:  
  
Sitting on her window bench, embroidery forgotten on her lap, Eowyn watched the sky. Worry ate away at her stomach as she thoughts about Eomer. About her people and the great upheavals tearing their lives apart. Food had become anathema to her.  
  
Saruman was not angry to find that her brother was gone. Pensive, yes. But cool and collected.  
  
She was afraid of this reaction more than anything else.  
  
"My Lady Eowyn," a soft voice from the doorway spoke, "His Lordship begs for an audience with you."  
  
"Very well." She rose and put her work aside, "Inform him that I will join him as soon as I make myself more presentable."  
  
"Yes, my lady." She curtsied and left.  
  
Quickly changing into a simple white dress, she sighed. The color which used to symbolize hope was becoming something else in her eyes. A soft coo turned her away from the door. Upon the window sill, a kittiwake waited patiently to be noticed, its leg outstretched. Pulling a live mouse from a trap, she offered it to the bird in exchange for the note.  
  
"My Soster,  
  
How go your court games?  
  
The seasons are quite strange here.  
  
Do be a dear and cast a few lures.  
  
Your Broir."  
  
It took her a moment to decipher his message. When she did, she composed a reply quickly and with a determined nod of her head.  
  
"My Broir,  
  
What do you think? My queen's been caught.  
  
I am glad you a enjoying the odd, it suits you.  
  
It will be my pleasure to do so, think they'll bite?  
  
You Soster."  
  
"Return to sender." It was whispered, trying the message to the bird. It left its perch and soared away into the afternoon sky. She sighed, "Would that I could do the same."  
  
Smoothing her dress down, she quickly went to the study. Knocking, she waited for permission to enter. "You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
"Please, Lady Eowyn, there is no need to stand on ceremony with me. I would appreciate it if you would call me Saruman." He rose from the desk and led her to one of the chairs, sitting down across from her.  
  
"As you wish, Saruman." She was proud of her calm voice. Though the more time she spent with him, the more he unnerved her.  
  
He didn't comment on her lack of allowing him familiarity with her name. "Tea?"  
  
"Please." She murmured, pouring him a cup. After taking a few sips in relatively companionable silence, she looked over at him. "You didn't ask me down here just for a cup of tea, what is it that you really wanted from me?"  
  
"What makes you suspect that, Lady Eowyn?" Neither deny nor accepting her words.  
  
"Idle talk and conversation does not suit you." She replied, looking at him over the rim of her cup. "If it was, you would have traveled more."  
  
"You see me as a scholar?"  
  
"You do not?" She challenged him,taking a sip of her tea.  
  
"I have found, Lady Eowyn, that appearances are often deceiving."  
  
Acknowledging nod. "But rarely are my instincts wrong, they say that you are more a man of quiet contemplation than of action."  
  
Holding out a sheaf of papers to her, he indicated that she should look them over. "And you would be quite correct, I did ask you here for more than a cup of tea. I have been going over King Theoden's work and have found several discrepancies in them."  
  
She perused the papers slowly, carefully noting those which he'd signaled out as problematic. After a moment, she turned to look at him. "This would be about the time I started to help him out more. You do not seem to find anything objectionable about my work." Slightly questioning his intentions.  
  
Saruman sat down, nodding. "I found your work to be insightful and factual. There was nothing in it to indicate a tendency to minimize the problem and your solutions were practical. You work is grounded and real, it shows the grasp you have on what is going wrong in Rohan."  
  
Though she tried to quell it, Eowyn could not quite stop the thrill of pride that his words caused her and looked away from him.  
  
"Have I offended you in some way?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, quite the contrary."  
  
"Really?" Saruman was surprised by this admission. "Surely you've heard others praise your work."  
  
"Not since mother died," she whispered.  
  
"I am horrified to hear you say so. How remiss of your relatives." Gently dropping the doubt about her family's feelings for her required a steady hand and careful application and a mountain of patience, something Wormtongue knew a little of but did not develop it sufficiently. Fortunately for his plans, Saruman was a master of waiting.  
  
"They had other things to concern themselves with. They did not need to be spending their time validating me and my actions. I am not someone who needs constant attention and showers of praises to feel of worth, Istari." Sharp.  
  
"Of course not." Soothing, "But surely they could've said something to you once in a while. Though I am sure you are right, you know them best. And I am but a scholar of words, not people."  
  
"Oh, I feel certain that you are more than a scholar, Saruman." Quiet.  
  
But as their eyes meet over the rim of her cup, something unspoken passed between them.  
  
The rest of the afternoon passed in quiet discussion. Oddly unwilling to exert even the slightest of magical force on her, the Istari studied her instead. He paid careful attention to what she said, as well as what she implied. 


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Note: I just realized that I never explained this, but that's okay since it features into this part as well. Broir and Soster are words I found in a dictionary on words of Northern Europe. Since one of the sources I read said that Tolkien based the Rohirrim upon a Viking like culture, I tried to use their words and maybe some of their feelings about the working relationship between men and women.  
  
Part 6:  
  
Aragorn walked with Boromir, discussing the dream that had sent the younger man to seek Elrond's counsel. "Almost your dream persuades me to return to Gondor. It seems to be a signal calling me to the White City."  
  
"Can you not think of it as home?" Bitter.  
  
He shook his head. "I have no right to do so, so long have I turned my back upon it."  
  
Boromir shook his head. "I know that you doubt the honor of men, Aragorn, but it is there. It may not be what you are used to, but men's hearts are true."  
  
"It is not men that I fear, Boromir. It is myself." The ranger paused, searching for words to describe his feelings. "You see me before you, right?"  
  
"Yes." Barely hidden exasperation.  
  
"Patience," Aragron counseled him with a slight smile. "As I exist, so does the ring. I fear that if I start down the path to Gondor, the ring's power would lead me astray and destroy your city."  
  
"It still exists? I had thought it lost when Isildur fell."  
  
"Oh, it's real as I. And twice as hard." Harsh voice, but the fear of what he was speaking of was also there.  
  
"Aragorn," Boromir began but stopped. Up in the air, a bird passed over their heads heading for one room. "Hmmm...seems as if Eomer has finally received his answer. Now he can stop bending my ear with his worries."  
  
"To?" Aragorn vaguely recalled meeting the blonde heir of Rohan but the details escaped him. He did remember being impressed by him and thinking that he'd make a good ally in a fight.  
  
Searching look. "You do not recall?"  
  
"No. Should I?" Inwardly, he cursed, trying to think about the encounters he'd had with Eomer but nothing definite surfaced.  
  
"It was the subject of much debate during our first meeting with the counsel." A comforting pat on his shoulder. "But I shouldn't be surprised by this, I have heard of the unfortunate condition your friend, the Lady Arwen, is in."  
  
Boromir paused, allowing the still grieving man a moment to recover. They started walking towards the study, somehow knowing that they'd find Eomer there. "A few days ago, King Theoden died, apparently of natural causes. Saruman showed up, his motives for being there are unclear. Eomer had already written to his sister, asking her to keep an eye on this Istari."  
  
Listening to him speak about it, Aragorn started to remember it. "They were worried that he might have revealed certain things to her that she didn't need to know about. Or that she would let things slip to Saruman. Lord Eomer seemed very upset by the council's words."  
  
"He's very protective of his sister. Mithrandir and he both agreed that she could help. So, he had already asked her to keep an eye on Saruman, find out his plans or at least what he's brought with him. He also asked her to watch out for any strangers to their land, try to determine where they came from."  
  
"He would ask his sister to do such a dangerous thing? That seems a little contradictory for a man who wants to protect her." Aragorn mused.  
  
"I would." A cool voice answered from the doorway. "And you shouldn't speak about things you have no understanding about."  
  
"Why would you subject her to such danger?"  
  
"You mean she isn't in any danger by being around him and his allies? By the raiding orcs that have savaged our land?" Eomer asked, adding sarcastically. "It is refreshing to know that our enemies have manners and a sense of decency, that they will leave her alone as they destroy everything else in their sight."  
  
"That isn't what I meant." The ranger protested, noting that Boromir was silent.  
  
"You understand nothing of our ways. In war, as in peace time, a woman has a vital place outside the home. She is as much a soldier as any man and lives up to the call. My beloved sister would find your behavior offensive towards her and others like her."  
  
Boromir held up a hand, trying to ease the tense situation. "Eomer, calm yourself. Aragorn meant no harm in expressing his opinion."  
  
Eomer turned to Boromir, restraining himself with effort. "I know that you must be civil to him as he may become your king but do not expect the same to be said of me."  
  
Boromir sighed, watching him go. "You really don't know much about the ways of men, do you?"  
  
"I have spent time in Rohan and other cities but I admit that it wasn't long enough to learn any cultures quirks." Aragorn spoke somewhat defensively. "It seems they have a different view on where a woman should be in times of war. The Shield Maids are more than legend."  
  
"They are alive and well. Eowyn herself is among their number. Idis-who was Theoden's daughter-is queen among them. I am surprised that she is not here and that she has sent no one to represent her." Half-questioning.  
  
"Elrond did not ask her to be here. Elves hold beliefs similar to those in Gondor, except for a very few, women are healers, not leaders. In all honesty, I think Queen Idis intimidates him much the same way Galadriel does." Gandalf explained, glancing into the study. "Eomer sent me a message asking to meet me here, where is he?"  
  
"I offended his beliefs, quite unintentionally and he left." Aragorn said, feeling more self-conscious than he liked.  
  
"Then I'll find him in the stables." It was said with a sigh. "With all the assembled to chose from, one would think he'd seek more amenable company."  
  
"He like horses. Correction, he loves the beasts. If he could get away with it, he'd spend his whole life with them." Boromir offered with a smile. "Besides, Eomer and I aren't comfortable with much of the guests." Though he tried to keep his tone light, the unease seeped through.  
  
Wisely, Gandalf said nothing and withdrew into the shadows. He did have another reluctant heir to find and this was a problem that needed to be resolved now, though he was surprised by the repot the two had established.  
  
"Even around me, Boromir?" Aragorn's voice was soft.  
  
"Sometimes you condemnation for man's fallen state shows all to clearly in your eyes and can be heard in your voice." Equally soft.  
  
"I regret that."  
  
"You cannot help what you feel." The Steward's son pointed out.  
  
"Even if what I feel is obviously wrong in your eyes?" Aragorn pressed.  
  
"Is it? Who am I to judge what is right or wrong for you?" He was being strangely philosophical about it all. "You will learn, as I have, that things are not always what they appear to be."  
  
Aragorn shook his head, trying to figure out what was going on in the other man's head.  
  
"Elessar?" Elrohir spoke quietly. "I hate to disturb you, but Arwen is calling for you."  
  
"She's awake?" Hope flared in his grey eyes, painful to see.  
  
"I wish that I could say she was, but that would be a cruel lie. She is more aware of what is going on around her, has a faint recognition of things that are going on. Father barely managed to calm her down when she asked about the fate of Frodo Baggins." Elrohir's response was as gentle as he could make it.  
  
Clasping his hand, Aragorn thanked him for his honesty.  
  
Boromir watched him go, wondering what he was supposed to do now.  
  
Elrohir took pity on him, though he'd never been found on humans. "I'm going out to practice, want to join me?"  
  
Though surprised, he allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Why not?"  
  
"Why not indeed." The two made their way down the hall and out into the fresh evening air.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf found Eomer in the stables. He was speaking softly to his horse as he brushed his coat and the wizard watched for a while, waiting for him to notice him. When it became apparent that he wouldn't, he cleared his throat. "If I am disturbing you, I can come back later."  
  
Eomer jumped, turning to glare at him. "You know some people consider it rude to sneak up on others."  
  
"I apologize." He mildly replied, not bothering to point out that he had tried to let him know that he was there.  
  
Running a hand through his long hair, Eomer sighed tiredly. "No, I should, Gandalf, to you and to Aragorn. But I'm not used to having people question my people's ways."  
  
"Or insult your sister?"  
  
"My soster would be ashamed of my actions." He paused, thinking to the words she'd hollered at him before he left. "She wrote that all is well, so far. Raiders have ceased ravaging the countryside. As for Saruman, he hasn't revealed what he intends for her to do. He has shown nothing but the highest regard for her, nothing else."  
  
"Did he bring anything besides his staff with him?" Urgent question.  
  
"Eowyn said that a few boxes had arrived, but he hadn't unpacked anything yet." He shrugged, ignoring the impatient shove of his horse for the moment. "She'll have more later, I'm sure."  
  
"Ask her to..." Gandalf began, shaking his head. "Let me write to her, I know what she should watch out for. I can also give her better descriptions."  
  
"Not a good idea, sir. Why don't you write it down and give it to me, then I can transfer it into our code?"  
  
"Something could get lost in the translation." Gandalf sighed, thinking hard.  
  
Turning back to the horse, Eomer scratched his nose. Then he turned around, staring at him. "Do you know anything about the way the Shield Maids encode their messages?"  
  
The Istari slowly nodded, quickly figuring out what the Rohan man was implying. "I have a basic knowledge and your sister has been trained."   
  
"Exactly." Eomer and he shared a smile of satisfaction.  
  
Gandalf turned to leave, "I'll get to work and leave you to your horse."  
  
"Listen, if you see Aragorn, let him know that I'd like to speak to him."  
  
The Istari nodded, then left Eomer alone.  
  
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Next part, Arwen finally makes another appearance. Legolas and Gimli have their second meeting, unsupervised this time. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Part 7 & 8 happen about the same time. Is anyone reading this?  
  
Part 7:  
  
Kittiwake,  
  
I call you that for that is what your brother says your name is among maidens.  
  
It is a matter of grave importance that I write you, all lands hang in the balance.  
  
My heart pangs me but I must ask that you take upon yourself an even deeper risk.  
  
Finishing the letter, he signed it simply, the Wanderer. Rising to his feet, he felt every inch his age and more. Troubled in more than mind, he was weary in body, and tired in spirit. What once was enough for him, no longer could fill and renew him. Shaking it off as best he could, he walked down to meet Eomer.  
  
Gandalf and Eomer watched the kittiwake take off, both feeling nervous for vastly different reasons. "Will she remember enough to understand what I am trying to say?" Gandalf asked, long after the bird was gone from their sight.  
  
"Yes. I am more worried by the fact that she has no one she can trust." He murmured, rubbing his arms to warm them from the sudden chill.  
  
Gandalf looked over at him, concerned and more than a little worried. "What do you mean?" They had become comfortable enough with each other that he no longer worried about pushing the younger man away.  
  
His breath hissed as he pulled it in, there was surprise in his eyes. "I did not tell you?"  
  
"If you had, would I be asking?" Mildly reproachful.  
  
With a sigh, he explained. "Saruman has been slowly replacing all the palace servants with his own. He finished doing it yesterday."  
  
"Isn't there any way to get her some aid?"  
  
Sorrowful eyes turned towards his, "If there were, I would've tried."  
  
"Any word from the Shield Maidens?"  
  
"None. I'm not sure but I don't think the silence from them is good. Even when Uncle wasn't getting along with them, they always responded. I have a bad feeling about it." He sighed, then shook himself firmly. "I'll see you around, Gandalf."  
  
"That horse of yours is going to get a swelled head with all the attention you pay it, Eomer." The wizard called after him.  
  
"He carries me faithfully and well, he deserves it." Eomer responded, before turning the corner.  
  
Later after Elrond and Gandalf shared a glass of wine, he told his friend. "Children, that's what they are. They are children playing adults in a game of war and they don't truly recognize the cost they are to pay."  
  
***  
  
The Next Day.  
  
Aragorn sat in the room, holding onto Arwen's transparent hand. She was fading from sight, barely holding onto her physical form. It killed him to see her thus.  
  
"Gondor, oh Gondor,  
  
Promised light of the world.  
  
Dawning hope for mankind.  
  
How could you have so fallen from yourself?"  
  
The once smooth but now anguished voice cried, shocking him. "Arwen?"  
  
"Oh King, thou that hearest their cries and turns away.  
  
Thou seest their tears and stoppers thine heart.  
  
Thou feelest their pain and refuses to succor them.  
  
Hope of men, fear no more.  
  
The time has come, it is long past.  
  
Return to your aching people.  
  
Do that which you long promised.  
  
For this end did you come into the world.  
  
Restore that which has been lost."  
  
Arwen's voice died and the stillness was broken only by Aragorn's ragged weeping. Slowly, the tears dried and an acceptance cloaked him in its embrace. Rising on trembling limbs, he kissed her brow and left the room. Years had been added to his face. Screams of anguish rang unchecked in his head, no longer was he able to keep them out. They were his to carry and his to heal.  
  
He went to his mother's grave and fell to his knees, clutching the stone for strength. When he rose, a new determination burned in his eyes. "Boromir, I need you." He called out as he walked to the stables.  
  
It was almost like Boromir had known for he was there, by the heir's side, before the words had left Aragorn's lips. For a moment, the man of Gondor was uncertain who he was walking with-the countenance of the man was altered from the one he had learned before. "What is it?"  
  
"Gather the Rohirrim and your soldiers, we leave for Gondor tonight." It was not said but stated in the voice of a man who knows what to do and that it was his right to do so. "We will escort the ring's party as far as Redhorn Pass, then we shall part company."  
  
"Do you think that's wise? It seems to me that such a move will attract Sauron's gaze." Elladan spoke softly as Boromir turned away.  
  
"Let it. It is time for us to wake up and shake the dust off of our feet. I will no longer go quietly into the dying light." Steel. But there was a tremble of fear as well.  
  
"Boromir," his voice stopped the man and he turned, a question in his eyes. "Say nothing to the men."  
  
"As you wish." Quiet agreement, knowing of the need Aragorn had for continued silence.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
***  
  
Frodo felt the change in the air with a curious detachment, he rose from the bed. Somehow he *knew* it was time. Packing up his things, he rapped lightly on Sam's door. Still blinking their eyes, the 4 hobbits made their way out into the open night air.  
  
Gandalf was waiting for them at the door. Gesturing with one hand, he indicated that they should remain silent. A wasted gesture as even Pippin seemed to feel the solemnity of the moment.  
  
The men of Gondor stood nervously off to the side, distrustful of the approaching Ranger. A questioning look at Boromir revealed his confidence in the man and they accepted him into their midst grudgingly. Together, the Ranger and the Steward's son stood, though both were tense. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Part 8:  
  
Same time as Aragorn is receiving Arwen's message (approximately):  
  
Gimli sat along the edge of the riverbed, Bilbo's latest chapter resting on his knees. To his surprise, the hobbit wrote in a refreshingly honest and upfront manner-which often showed the author himself in a bad manner. Occasionally he would let out a chuckle, recognizing his father's distinctive voice among all the others. But, though he laughed, the story also filled him with sadness. He still missed his father and many of his friends.  
  
As he turned the page, a movement to his left caught his attention. It was that dratted elf he'd met earlier, Thranduil's son. Out of respect for his host, Gandalf, and Bilbo, he'd avoided being around him and the other Mirkwood elves.  
  
With an irritated sigh, he pushed the papers aside and turned to face him. Though it flashed by to quickly to be certain, he caught the surprise in the widened blue eyes. "What is it, elf?" He growled, instinctively reaching for the axe he knew wasn't there.  
  
Legolas' brows lowered, for a moment, he was the epitome of consternation. "I did not mean to trouble your work, master dwarf. Please, continue."  
  
"I am not pleased by your company, elf, so you may as well speak your piece and be gone."  
  
"We are supposed to be allies," he remonstrated. "Gandalf has advised us to work out our differences."  
  
"When Gandalf is here, I will work on it. For now, I would be elsewhere." Gimli angrily said, rising to his feet. For some reason, he was upset by the elf's calm manner. As though talking to dwarves was an every day occurrence for him.  
  
Patience was a virtue learned over many years and Legolas was young by elfish standards. He had not as firm a control over his temper as he'd led others to believe. It was one of the few things he shared with his father. His grip was slowly slipping. "Middle-Earth is in danger and Gandalf does not have the time to spend playing the part of mediator for us. We have been selected to represent our people, is this how you want to be known? As a child playing at adult games?"  
  
"Are you daring to lecture me on where my duty lies, elf?" Dangerously low, "as though I was one of your subjects?"  
  
"I wouldn't want to do them any dishonor that way." Legolas snapped, unable to hold back. "You wouldn't get the point if I tired. That helmet of yours is almost as thick as your head."  
  
A strange bark of laughter emerged from the dwarf. "At last, a real answer from you, not what you think I want to hear. I well remember you, Legolas Greenleaf. Be yourself around me, you might find it works better than the pomposity you've so far shown me."  
  
Legolas shook his head, coming down to sit beside Gimli. Then he looked up, a challenge clear in his eyes. "Why do you say that, Gimli, son of Gloin?"  
  
"It shows a willingness to become more than a visible part of the fight to save Middle-Earth."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Legolas stiffened, glaring at him.  
  
"Don't tighten your bow string, but have you seen any of the other elves willing to stand up and be counted in the fight?" Gimli asked, shifting so that their eyes were more level.  
  
"The times are changing. It is no longer the elves place to fight or decide the fate of Middle-Earth." The elf repeated words he knew and only partially believed.  
  
"A pretty speech indeed, elf. Tell me, is that why your kind speaks in riddles? To avoid blame or responsibility for many of the calamities that have befallen the world?" The dwarf's question struck a nerve.  
  
"It was not the elves who kept the ring." He pointed out.  
  
"But it was an elf who led Isildur to Mount Doom. It was an elf who let him walk away with it."  
  
"Are you saying a dwarf would've done better?" There was anger in the elf's voice now.  
  
Gimli shrugged, searching for the right words. "I am not saying that. But I do know that we wouldn't have let him leave the cave with it."  
  
"No. You probably would've killed him and taken it because of your fondness for gold." Legolas stated, not without some justification.  
  
"We would not have let our affection for gold blind us to the evil in the ring. Part of what we treasure is the search, the hunting for it."  
  
"Oh, of course." He interrupted, "The hunt. You accuse us of cowardice, but what of your own people's actions after the battle? Once the war was over and done, what did you do while my people rebuilt? Hide in mountains, digging into the land, that's what. You spent the intervening years searching for that all important, yet illusive treasure."  
  
"Do you dare to presume to judge us when your own father values that self same treasure?" Gimli demanded, irritated again with the frustrating elf. "In fact, if memory serves me correctly, he nearly started a war over it. Demanding it as ransom from us-after he unjustly imprisoned my father."  
  
"Are you fighting again?" An exasperated, but amused, voice asked from somewhere above them.  
  
Legolas and Gimli were both startled to hear it. As one, they looked up and over at Elrohir. He was leaning against the bridge, watching them with a smirk on his face. "So, I managed to surprised the both of you. May be you aren't as ready for this mission as you'd like us to believe, little Legolas. It is bad form for an elf to be surprised like the common herd."  
  
Forcing himself to relax, Legolas coolly smiled and answered him. "No. We are merely debating our various customs."  
  
"Of course you are. It was silly of me to assume otherwise. Come inside when you've finished your.....discussion." Elrohir drawled, "Eomer has some news to share with us."  
  
"Is it good or bad?" Gimli asked, having grown fond of the irritable human prince.  
  
"I do not know. Elladan knows more about him and his secrets than I."  
  
"How can he have news again so soon? Gandalf sent the new message just yesterday, I thought that it took a few days for the birds to travel from here to there." This question also came from Gimli.  
  
"This is one the Lady Eowyn sent out on her own. From what I understand, the birds passed each other." Nodding once, the dark haired elf disappeared.  
  
Gimli turned once more to the elf in front of him and snorted. "Why did you tell him that we were having a discussion? You know that it isn't true."  
  
"Elrohir already thinks that I am unsuited for the task. If he knew that we were brawling, I would be sent home. I would imagine that Gandalf would send you home as well. Wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Though it irritated him to agree with an elf-and a Mirkwood one at that, he nodded his bearded head.  
  
"Besides, it is none of his-or any one else's-business what we do." He added firmly, "now, what were you saying before we were interrupted?"  
  
It was much later when they joined the company of men. Aragorn had finally come to retrieve them himself, clucking to see them. "No one seeing you two would believe that you were talking."  
  
"What? They only show in bright light." Legolas said defensively, turning away.  
  
"I hope you are ready to leave. Elrond is about to see us off." Aragorn called after him, waiting for the nod before joining Boromir.  
  
Elrond waited for them by the gate. Of the other elves, there was no sign. "Be true to the course you have set before you and I see that you shall meet with success. I do not, however, say that it shall be easy."  
  
Dark eyes met every single pair of the assembled men, "Each of you bear's burdens that weigh you down. The darkness grows. It will haunt you. Fear will be your constant companion. Death will take many of your comrades. You are among strangers, traveling unknown paths together. But this adversity will give you strength, if you have the courage to meet it. Farewell."  
  
One by one they turned away and followed Frodo down the path.  
  
Eomer sent one last, longing look into the sky. He turned away with a sigh.  
  
"I will find you, no matter where you are, Eomer. You will receive word from your sister no matter the distance I must travel." Elladan promised.  
  
The look of gratitude said more than words ever could.  
  
***  
  
A few days into the trip, Eomer sought Aragorn out and found him idly chewing his pipe. "Aragorn, I apologize for my rash words."  
  
Gray eyes widened only fractionally, he was surprised, though he knew he should have expected it and he nodded. "I extend my apologies to you as well. Your ways are not my own but it does not make them wrong. I sound awfully pompous, don't I?"  
  
"To a certain extent, yes." Eomer closely studied him "You really don't have much experience with men, do you?"  
  
"I have some."  
  
"How so?" He was curious and it showed in his open face.  
  
"I've lived among them." Aragorn's words were stilted.  
  
"Just lived? You have never gotten involved emotionally, have you?" Eomer prodded.  
  
"I try not to." Aragorn was uncomfortable now and it showed.  
  
"One cannot live with us and just observe, a connection has to be there for anything to be learned. For anything to have been gained, something must be risked." Eomer shook his head, amused. "Now I sound pompous."  
  
"What are the two of you doing? Trying to dig deeper holes for yourselves?" Boromir's amused voice asked, "If I could impose upon one of you, would you mind helping me teach the little ones a bit of sword play?"  
  
"Would I be the victim again?" Eomer asked, nervously glancing at his friend.  
  
"That only happened once, Eomer. I assure you, my aim has vastly improved since we last fought."  
  
"It may have been once but I had stitches for weeks. Uncle Theoden," there was a break in his voice, "wouldn't let me near a horse for two weeks after they were removed."  
  
"You and your horses." Boromir muttered, then teased. "It won't happen again. You can wear full body armor if it'll help you be less of a baby."  
  
Eomer growled, "I'll make you eat those words." He strode down the hill, looking back up at him challengingly. "Well?"  
  
"Works every time," Boromir smirked.  
  
Aragorn shook his head, laughing at their antics. He stopped, shocked. It had been too long since he'd done so, he thought he couldn't feel carefree anymore. It felt good. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Thank you Bex, Egleriel, and lightangel.  
  
Anfieldgyul-Thank you. If you don't mind my asking, what would you like me to describe exactly? I'm trying to avoid describing the actual landscape b/c I don't want to mislabel anything and my only 'source' is the movie. Yes, it is a possible A/E.  
  
Malva-I am so glad you liked my Legolas/Gimli conversations. Unlike with Eowyn and Saruman, those two are difficult. I was trying to get them to talk without copying what others have done and wasn't sure how successful I was. Thanks.  
  
Author's Note: This is only a short update b/c I am trying to borrow the books from the library to create the actual land realistically-without directly copying his words. The Shield Maids introduced are a combination of Tolkien's people and those I created for my "I Am Eowyn" story. Really, Idis was supposed to be Theoden's daughter and was dropped from the story.  
  
Part 9:  
  
"Lady Eowyn!" A distressed voice called from outside the main building. "Hurry! We need your help!"  
  
Throwing back the thick blanket, Eowyn went to her window and looked down. A man dressed in brown was waving his hat and calling to her. From the sound of his voice, he'd been doing so for quite some time. It took her a few seconds but she recognized the salt and pepper hair of Baldur, an old comrade of her father's. Leaning out carefully, she called down to him. "Give me a moment to change and I shall be with you. What is wrong?"  
  
"It is my daughter. Oh, hurry up. Do." The urgency in his voice touched her, as did the fear in his eyes.  
  
"I'll be down as soon as I can." She soothed, moving back to remove her gown and pulled on more appropriate garb. From the sound of things, she'd need her bag. As part of the royal family, she had been trained to handle medical emergencies. It was no surprise to her when Saruman joined her at the door. Together, they walked out into the crisp morning air and over to the waiting horses. "Lead on, Baldur."  
  
As they rode after him, Eowyn couldn't help but glance over at Saruman in puzzled wonder. He had joined her several times on her regular visits to the villages and it still bothered her. The people barely tolerated him and did nothing to disguise it. Saruman didn't let it bother him and she never saw any hint of his disgust at the conditions he found. Even when the livestock roaming inside the house did little to break his calm facade, he simply stood back and engaged the inhabitants in conversation while she did what needed to be done.  
  
His actions in Edoras would imply that he was trying to isolate her from everyone. Yet, he never tried to stop her from leaving. Even though he traveled with her, there was nothing to stop her from fleeing his side. It bothered her that she couldn't figure out what he was up to. And she could feel him breaching her walls, slowly but surely.  
  
They stopped in front of one house and she could hear the screams of pain. Baldur leaped off his horse and entered, giving them both an appealing look. Wincing slightly, she figured out what the situation inside was. She slid off the horse into Saruman's arms without a trace of discomfort on her face.  
  
Turning, she removed the things she needed. Overhead a kittiwake flew by and her eyes narrowed, distressed. She hadn't anything new to report, what if something had happened to Eomer?  
  
"Lady Eowyn?" A concerned voice asked, invading her thoughts.  
  
Startled, she turned towards the house and saw Saruman waiting for her by the door, a questioning expression on his face. Moving towards him briskly, she ordered her thoughts to be still. "I wish you hadn't come with me this time. Baldur's daughter sounds as though she's giving birth. Men have no place in this."  
  
"Lady Eowyn, I have never been ranked among men, though I am male. If I have the power to offer aid, I shall do so. It is what I am here for. Nor am I entirely helpless." His tone was mildly rebuking as well as amused.  
  
"I hope you are not expecting this to be easy."  
  
"I do not. Part of our training involved the medicinal arts. I was one of the few exposed to a birthing." He was quiet, feeling that it would do no harm to drop some personal history into the conversation. "I do not feel that it will be easy for us and I know that she will go through an immense trial of strength. Shall we?" Reminding her of her duty.  
  
She passed through the door, silently. The rift inside her was widening.  
  
***  
  
Queen Idis was bathing, resting her head against the cool stone. A sharp knock roused her slightly from her contemplation, "Enter!" It was sharp and unhappy.  
  
Helena walked in, a note in her hands and a kittiwake trailing behind her. "A message from your cousin."  
  
"Read it," she commanded her second, opening one eye.  
  
"My dear cousin Idis,  
  
Why have you not joined in the battle   
  
to save Middle-Earth as once the   
  
maidens did?  
  
Know ye not that Sauron is back and   
  
his ring is awakened? The Nazgul roam  
  
the land freely.  
  
Isildur's heir is coming into himself. He   
  
appears to be a good man, though quite   
  
unsure of himself. But I shouldn't be   
  
making judgments.  
  
If you are still hurt by Uncle's actions, I   
  
beg you to forgive him. Eowyn is in the   
  
greatest of dangers. I am afraid that our   
  
old friend Wormtongue has succeeded in   
  
his plans to dispose of Theoden. Saruman   
  
now resides in Edoras....  
  
Helena stopped, the letter ripped from her hands. "My lady?" She pressed, watching the distraught woman read. "Idis?"  
  
Idis looked over at her, then back at the letter in her hands. "We must seek I'opia's advice." Her voice, when she finally spoke, barely covered her grief.  
  
"She will only tell you to go and help the Gondorians, ignoring Rohan for the moment." Helena pointed out, handing her a robe. "It is what she has been saying for years."  
  
"And maybe this Saruman situation will change that." The queen snapped, pulling her hair up into a towel. "Call her and Narvanata together, we must have a counsel of war."  
  
"And if she says to go to Gondor?"  
  
There was a long pause, Idis' hands clenched together tightly. She let out her breath in a hiss, her shoulders tight with her rage. "Then we will abide by her wishes."  
  
Helena waited until the queen was gone before reaching for the letter on the floor. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath and finished reading. Give us strength, she thought, give us strength to turn her away again.  
  
***  
  
Surprisingly, their journey was quiet. Gandalf was worried, though he didn't want the hobbits to be hurt. He just didn't trust the stillness, something was wrong. But what? Why was Saruman waiting? Why was Sauron?  
  
They were not exactly a small group. So, why wasn't Sauron moving?  
  
"Aragorn, a word?" Gandalf questioned once camp was set. This was their last night under the shelter of the forest. Soon, they would be splitting up.  
  
He nodded and walked towards the Istari, knowing that Boromir would be behind him. It used to bother him but now the presence was reassuring. "What is it?"  
  
"This lack of action on our enemies part. It isn't normal for a silence like this to surround a group such as ours."  
  
It wasn't until Gandalf said it that Aragorn realized what had been missing. "But isn't that a good thing? I thought we wanted to preserve lives and especially the hobbit's innocence."  
  
"My friend, I do. But I would rather we had some indication or sign of our enemies." Gandalf could be enigmatic when he wanted to but in this case, he wanted his feelings to be clearly known.  
  
"You are right. Do you think its possible that our numbers frightened them and they are waiting for a smaller target?"  
  
The gray wizard's head shook. "Goblins and orcs will always outnumber us. Even when they don't, their sheer brutality more than makes up for it. It would be foolish to assume that we are intimidating them."  
  
"Especially since my brother is keeping them distracted on two of the roads to Mordor and one of the Gondor paths." Elladan quietly spoke from the darkness. "Where's Eomer?"  
  
"With his horse," Aragorn said sardonically.  
  
"Makes sense," the elf replied. "It is his one comfort." He faded into the night and found the man of Rohan leaning against a tree. "Eomer?"  
  
"Elladan?" He sat up, shocked to see the elf. "What's happened?" 


	10. Chapter Ten

Thanks to:  
  
The Dark Wanderer, I'm glad you're enjoying this. I was really worried about the whole Eowyn/Saruman thing and adding in Eomer so early, so I'm glad it works.  
  
Acacia Jules: Nice to know the edition of Elladan and Eomer is appreciated.  
  
Author's Note: I'm afraid RL killed my creativity. It's quite buried me for a while. To bad we can't put it on hold for our stories. sigh. If anyone figures out how to do that, let me know, okay? I fear that these final chapters do not keep up the previous works as they should've. Hopefully, the story will still be enjoyable. Question, does Elladan have one L in his name or two?  
  
Part 10  
  
Wordlessly, Elladan handed him a sealed note. Eomer recognizing the seal of his aunt. Breaking it open, he read the terse note,  
  
'See you in Gondor.'  
  
He sunk to his knees, defeated. His last hope shattered. Elladan watched him, feeling his agony, though he didn't know what the note read. "Bad news?"  
  
"In part, Elladan. On the good side, we will have the arm of the shield maids to lend us strength. But my sister is left alone amidst the sea of Saruman's men." Eomer sighed, vaguely feeling his horse nuzzle him. "What am I to do?"  
  
"Think carefully about what you want to do. Then think of what you need to do."  
  
Eomer snorted, "I want to get my sister away from that monster. I want to be free of this darkness. I want Sauron's presence to leave our world forever. I want to be home and not have to leave because we are under attack."  
  
Then the Rohirrim man sighed, "I need to fulfill my obligations here."  
  
"Some of your wants will be met by your needs," Elladan commented softly, kneeling by his side.  
  
"But my greatest want won't be," he was bitter.  
  
Elladan had come to know Eowyn through her letters and from Eomer's descriptions of her tenacity and strength. "Trust in her."  
  
"I do."  
  
"Then why do you fear?"  
  
"Elladan, you are an elf and have no true understanding of what it means to be mortal, to be tempted. Elves are untouched, unchanged by time. But man feels the pressure of the years, we know that we are prone to err. Saruman is of a golden tongue. It would not be hard to fall under his spell when my sister has been poisoned slowly these past years by Wormtongue's lies. All he would have to do is switch methods, compliment her. My sister is not immune to flattery."  
  
"Would that I had words to comfort you. But I do not." The elf finally spoke, resting a hand on the firm shoulder.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
They separated in the morning. Gandalf and the hobbits in one direction, the company of men towards Gondor. Boromir stood back and watched as Aragorn debated with himself.  
  
Legolas and Gimli also waited before choosing to go with Gandalf. "He needs our aid more."  
  
Aragorn nodded, understanding darkening his gray eyes. He watched both make their way after the Istari's company and sighed. Facing Boromir, he was unsurprised to see the detached expression on his face. "Let's go."  
  
"Are you certain that this is what you wish, Aragorn?"  
  
"I cannot ignore them any longer, Boromir," his reply was simple. "They are all I dream of now."  
  
Boromir rested a strong hand on his shoulder and turned him around so that they faced each other. "You will survive this, Aragorn, for you have the strength of men and the courage of the elves you were raised among."  
  
Aragorn was silent, he did not know what to say.  
  
"Of course, you could do with a little more muscle on this skinny frame of yours," he teased him.  
  
The ranger snorted, shaking his head in amusement as Boromir made his way down to the waiting men. After a moment, he followed.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
It was early evening in Rohan and quiet, for once. Saruman rested before the palantir in his chambers, thinking. It all came down to this, the simplest way to accomplish his goal was through Lady Eowyn. Though she had refused to formally accept the crown, it was only a matter of time before she would have to.  
  
But something had caught his attention during his studies of the Rohirrim's legends. It was a minor point but important to him. A forgotten prophesy speaking of the shield maids. It seemed that the way to best protect Sauron and his men also was with her. May be. It could refer to another woman. But did he really want to take that chance? Should he take that chance?  
  
"Saruman," a voice hissed through his mind.  
  
He visually jumped, unaware that while he had been thinking, the palantir had come alive.  
  
"I see I was right. Your actions betray you."  
  
"I am loyal to you," he protested, struggling to regain his composure. Thoughts of his own plans were shut up tight in the back of his mind.  
  
"Really?" The voice was amused, "then why wasn't I told that the Shield Maidens were on the move?"  
  
Once again, the Istari was thrown by Sauron's words. "I did not know."  
  
"Then I suggest you rid yourself of this high living in Edoras and return to Isengard immediately. It seems to have affected your mind." There was a pause, "and take the Lady Eowyn with you."  
  
Saruman nodded, waiting until the palantir was quiet before rising to his feet. Opening the door, he gestured to them to enter. "Go ask the Lady Eowyn to see me," he ordered one of his waiting servants once they were gathered together. The others heard him out and left on his orders to start packing, they were to leave before dawn, if possible.  
  
"You wished to see me, Saruman?" Her voice came from the doorway and he turned to face her. She'd obviously been readying herself for bed and he shoved aside any feelings of desire upon seeing her like this, so intimately. The time for that plan had come and gone.  
  
"Lady Eowyn, we are moving to Isengard," his voice was cold and abrupt.  
  
She blinked, quickly coming to full awareness. "What?"  
  
"We are leaving. Edoras is no longer safe for us."  
  
"My people..." she began.  
  
"Will be safe where they are, so long as you come with me peacefully. Otherwise, I shall have them removed to Helm's Deep." His eyes were hard, the feel of someone watching him, weighted on his mind.  
  
Quelling the rising panic, she shook her head. "No, don't. I'll come." She knew that the old fort was nothing more than a death trap now. Little had been done to preserve it and keep it in good, working order. "I'll go pack my things."  
  
Saruman shook his head. "You will remain where I can see you."  
  
"Why?" Her question was calm, though her mind was spinning in circles. How was she to warn Gandalf about this?  
  
He suddenly moved towards her, his hand gripping her arm firmly. "I wouldn't question me again, Eowyn, my mood is far from generous."  
  
For the first time in a long while, a shiver of fear ran through her. She nodded numbly, following him into the room. The palantir flashed in the darkened room and she shivered even more, looking out the window. He forced her to face him and studied her eyes intently.  
  
He finally let go of her arm and she left his side, staring out the window. As much as she wanted to, she did not rub her arm. Though his grip had been more firm than tight, she could feel the bruises forming.  
  
"My lord," one of the men called out.  
  
"Yes?" he snapped, watching Eowyn. This compliance of hers was setting off his internal alarm. Though she had never been malleable, she had never been this subdued. There had always been something going on in her eyes, this time, he could see nothing.  
  
"There is someone here to see you."  
  
It was the small emphasis on the 'someone' that caught his ear. "Keep an eye on her," he ordered, striding from the room.  
  
Eowyn shivered, feeling that thing in the center stripping her of her defenses, leaving her with nothing. What was she to do? While she was here, though she was surrounded by her enemies, her actions went unnoticed. But she knew of the tower at Isengard, that terrible tower, nothing would escape his eye.  
  
She would finally be trapped in that tower Wormtongue had started to build around her. And her brother and Gandalf, they depended on her to keep them informed about the situation in Rohan. How could she help them now?  
  
Eyes bright with unshed tears stared out at blackening sky, blind to the furious activity below. She turned and faced the half-human form standing at the door and shyly smiled at it. Its eyes widened with lust and it stepped into the room.  
  
She was revolted and almost stepped back but held herself in place. "Would you be so kind as to excuse me for a moment? I have to, uhm. What I mean to say is that, uhm, I have to use the uhm..." Her cheeks were flaming by this point and she wished something would happen to help her out. This helpless damsel routine was not something she was used to doing.  
  
A little chamber maid heard her stumbling and scoffed, "does 'er high and mightiness need to relieve 'erself? I'll watch 'er."  
  
"Thank you," Eowyn whispered, ducking her head, thoroughly embarrassed. Once she was alone, she uttered a low, keening sound. While waiting for the messenger, she tore off a strip of cloth from her undergarments and, using blood, wrote a message to Gandalf.  
  
'Moving. Don't know when I can talk again. He does have that shiny ball you asked about. Don't tell Eomer. He'll do something stupid.'  
  
"Hurry up in there! I's got things ta do," the girl demanded, pounding on the door.  
  
"Take this to Gandalf once we've left. Be careful," she whispered. "And don't come back."  
  
The kittiwake nodded and hopped out, walking along the edge before heading to the safety of the houses below.  
  
Once it was out of sight, she firmed her spine. She would not let anyone see her fear and pain. There was nothing else she could do, but she would not give anyone further power over her. They would not know how afraid she was.  
  
It seemed like moments between announcement and arrival at Isengard, but was in reality a few days. Saruman took her to her room and she stood there, looking around. The door closed behind her, entombing her within. Finally, she allowed the tears to fall.  
  
But silently.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
Gandalf smelled the blood as he pulled the note free. He read it with horror.  
  
Rohan was lost to them.  
  
And Eowyn as well.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
Aragorn stood between Boromir and Eomer, studying the land before them. It was being made ready for a long siege. The walls of Gondor still stood firm but they could see that there was only a small forces defending it. Little signs also showed that it had been battered and nothing had been done to repair the damage.  
  
"I don't like this, Aragorn," Boromir whispered, "there should be more watchers."  
  
"And patrollers," Eomer added. "Denethor used to be extremely emphatic about that. We haven't met a single person since arriving."  
  
Aragorn nodded, "send a few men in to see what's going on. Tell them to keep as low a profile as possible."  
  
His steward nodded and went down among them men, choosing those he knew were best suited for the job. All three watched as the group went down until a noise drew Aragorn's gaze to the right. Coming towards them, deliberately making noise, was a group of elves from Lothlorien. He moved away from Eomer and approached Haldir, wondering what they were doing in this part of Middle Earth.  
  
The elves with him stood off, letting the two leaders approach each other alone. It went without question that this meeting did not concern them. Yet. "Aragorn. We had expected you to pass our way. When you did not, I was sent to find out what happened to you."  
  
"Did not Gandalf tell you that I chose to go to Gondor?"  
  
A look of grief crossed his face, gone in a moment but long enough to prepare him for the news. "He has fallen."  
  
Though prepared, he still stumbled back. Boromir's hand was there to steady him, he didn't even question its presence. "How?" he asked when he had found his voice.  
  
"To the Balrog in the Mines of Moria."  
  
"And those with him?" Boromir asked when it became apparent that Aragorn would not speak again.  
  
"Legolas and the dwarf, Gimli," he sneered at the name, "brought them to us. They rest, even now, in Lothlorien. Soon, they will depart. Legolas wanted me to give you this, said it was from Gandalf." He passed over a note, which Aragorn accepted and read.  
  
Gray eyes met the dark ones behind him, knowing that he had also read it. Both sought out the blonde on the overlook. "Boromir, I don't think we can keep this from him." It was hesitant, as though he wasn't sure what this man who'd become a friend to him, would say.  
  
"Then we shouldn't. You should go to this Lady of Lothlorien, then to Rohan. I take it she has advice to give?"  
  
Haldir nodded, observing the two.  
  
"The Rohirrim will come when you need them"  
  
"But what of Gondor? What of its needs?"  
  
"I am your watchman, your steward. Trust me, I have learned much from you."  
  
"Boromir, I need you."  
  
"Don't use me as a crutch, Aragorn," he advised. "It isn't fair-to either of us. Take Eomer with you."  
  
He looked over at the man skeptically, then back at Boromir.  
  
"I know. He's more than a little hot headed but he's a good man. They are his people. They will follow him," he said softly.  
  
Aragorn took a shuddering breath and nodded slowly. There was a reassuring squeeze, helping him over some of his discomfort. "The men of Rohan will not feel comfortable in Lothlorien. Is there another way to Rohan that will not bring us to the attention of the watchmen?"  
  
"Yes. It's an old road, Eomer and I used to use it when we wanted to escape or see each other without alerting anyone. It takes about a day off the journey." He paused, thinking, "I don't think my father ever found out about it."  
  
"Eowyn and Faramir did, though. In fact, she was the one who taught us how to travel and leave behind us no tracks. Why?" Eomer asked, joining them.  
  
"We have some news that requires us to travel to Rohan," he began, stopping at the worried light that entered the younger man's eyes. "Not here, Eomer. It is not the time nor is this the place."  
  
"Aragorn," a soft voice spoke from the deepening shadows as day turned to evening. "The six are on their way."  
  
"With only Legolas and Gimli for protection?" Boromir exclaimed. It wasn't that he doubted their abilities to keep the hobbits safe, though with their constant bickering, that doubt did exist-it was just that the four had become younger siblings to him.  
  
Her smile was kind, bearing no malice, only gentle understanding. "Elrohir and a woman called Narvanata are with them."  
  
"Then they are in the best of hands," Eomer said.  
  
"You know this woman?" Aragorn asked, turning to face him.  
  
He nodded, "she is Queen Idis' right hand woman, under Helena. Even more than being a strong warrior, she knows Mordor like no one else."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
Eomer hesitated, wondering how to answer Aragorn's question. The ranger did not know her as he did. But he decided that he should be honest with him. After all, they might meet up with her at some point. "It was once her home."  
  
"Aragorn, we have no time for doubts. Now is the time to be up and doing. Come, I have words for you alone." Galadriel spoke before he could ask for more.  
  
"He is Isildur's heir? Not much of a man, if you want my opinion on him. Seems too doubtful of his own worth, to dependent on others for their opinions."  
  
Boromir and Eomer turned at the voice, startled to see Queen Idis and her entourage of warriors. She cocked an eyebrow at him, "aren't you going to say anything to me in greetings, nephew? Boromir?"  
  
"Aunt Idis. It is good to see you looking so well." He commented, hugging her even as she scowled at his reference to her recent wound.  
  
"Thank you," she was frosty. "Boromir, I trust that all is well with you?"  
  
He hid a smile, "it is, though not so with my father."  
  
Idis nodded solemnly, "we have noticed the lack of security measures. Nothing here is as it should be. But do you believe that he is the one to restore Gondor to its former glory?"  
  
"I believe that he will do his best, which is all any of us can do, Please, don't let his appearance fool you," he quietly defended his friend. "Aragorn does not know what to do, he never really wanted this. I will help him as best as I can."  
  
"You've changed since last we met, Boromir of Gondor."  
  
"Hopefully for the best, Queen Idis," he murmured.  
  
Idis studied him intently, "we shall see."  
  
Aragorn joined them and bowed before her slightly, having seen how Boromir had done it. "I have heard much of you."  
  
"We prefer to prove ourselves through our actions, rather than words. I hope that you aren't expecting miracles," her words were dry. She knew how Eomer could make them sound. While she was proud of his pride in them, it also made her wince. The man practically put them on a pedestal.  
  
"I look forward to fighting beside you."  
  
"It is time for you to be off," Galadriel announced.  
  
Boromir shook his head before Aragorn could even ask. "You must make this journey on your own or you will never be able to call your soul your own. You will never be able to stand among mankind on your own."  
  
It was still hard to leave behind the one who'd helped him-even though he knew Boromir was right. "Try not to come into open attack against them. I will return with aid as soon as possible." Eomer looked at him, awaiting his instructions. "Eomer, this path to Rohan, is it far?"  
  
"Not from here," he replied.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Aragorn walked over to one of the horses and mounted. This journey would be better taken on horseback than on foot. "Then lead the way. I will explain why we are going once we're on the path."  
  
Eomer nodded, already knowing what happened. Riding through the small towns of Rohan, he called to his people to come to the aid of their nation. They responded, young men and women, ready to do what was necessary.  
  
The elders, though they wanted to join in, knew that their part would be to defend the land and protect the children. Leaving behind their homes, they left for another place of safety.  
  
Aragorn suddenly stopped, "Legolas?"  
  
The blonde elf had appeared out of nowhere, "orcs. They took Merry and Pippin but Frodo and Sam got away. We've been tracking them for the last few days." He looked tired, for an elf, "the orcs bore the White Hand of Saruman."  
  
"They must be going to Isengard."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Eomer, halt!" Aragorn ordered, surprised by the authority of his voice. He was even more surprised by the alacrity of Eomer's response. "We cannot attack a place that fortified and heavily defended. He has had months to prepare, we haven't even had a day. What is the condition of Helm's Deep?"  
  
"It's in pretty bad shape. We haven't had need of it in years. When Wormtongue became advisor to uncle, he never bothered to check it to keep it in good condition. There was no threat, why put forth the effort?"  
  
"You said Frodo and Sam escaped, where to?"  
  
Gimli's voice announced his arrival with Elrohir and Narvanata. "They felt it best to go on alone."  
  
"I gave them a few short cuts and safe passages through," the dark skinned woman said, introducing herself briskly. "Naravanta."  
  
"Aragorn," he studied her and found her to be a worthy ally. "Eomer, take the men and gather more forces."  
  
"The men?" Eomer began, ready to attack him for once again belittling the women.  
  
"Yes, the men. I want to women to go ahead of us to Isengard and do some advance scouting. Hopefully, Saruman will think nothing of their presence. I may trust you to lead the women on this expedition?"  
  
She only nodded, moving away to take the women aside and give them the plan. One of the women said something and she turned back, "if we met any forces?"  
  
"Take care of them. The more forces we can remove from the playing field, the better for us."  
  
"Very well," turning back to them, she assessed their weapons and rejected a few of them.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Eomer asked, with some hostility. Aragorn's manner irked him, though he knew the other man was right.  
  
Aragorn was silent before facing him. "I plan to see if I can enlist the aid of the denizens of Fangorn."  
  
"I shall accompany you," Legolas said.  
  
"As shall I," Gimli echoed, though he looked warily at the horse he was offered. "I do not ride."  
  
Legolas, already mounted, rode over and held out his hand. "I shall not let you fall."  
  
There was no hesitation to his manner, "I ride," he declared, accepting the hand. Those who knew the two exchanged baffled looks, wondering what had changed things between them.  
  
"Elrohir?"  
  
The dark haired elf shook his head, "I shall stay and help Eomer."  
  
"I would be glad of it but we have no mount to offer you," he was regretful. Narvanata had claimed the horse Gimli rejected.  
  
With a smile, he indicated Aragorn's. "I shall take that one. A more suitable mount comes for you, my dear Elendil."  
  
In the distance, a horse reared up and stomped the ground restlessly. Eomer gasped, "that was my father's. He will allow no man to ride him, hasn't since my father fell."  
  
The ranger was drawn to the beautiful horse. They came together on the field and stared at each other, before the horse allowed the man to mount him He recognized a master in this man, one like the one who had fallen. They parted ways at Fangorn's edge. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Part 11:  
  
They were traveling on foot once more, the close confines of the forest not suitable for continued riding. Plus, the woods made the animals nervous. "Who are we looking for?" Gimli asked, his axes left behind with the horses under Legolas' advice.  
  
"Ents," he replied shortly. Aragorn didn't mean to be rude but something was watching them and he couldn't tell where it was. Or what their intentions were.  
  
Legolas felt the same presence and his hand tightened on his bow. His other hand reached for Gimli's shoulder, squeezing it to reassure his friend that he would stay with him. He also waited for the dwarf to make another comment, but he remained still, as if he had picked up on the undercurrents in the air.  
  
There was a movement to their left and they whirled around, weapons at the ready. Though he didn't hold an ax, one of Legolas' short swords rested in Gimli's hand. A bright light blinded them as a figure stepped out. After a moment, the figure allowed the light to dissipate.  
  
"It cannot be," Legolas and Gimli spoke in unison, "Gandalf?"  
  
"Gandalf? Yes, I believe I was once called by that name," he murmured. "I fear that I do not recall much before I awoke upon the top of the mountain, though Galadriel of Lothlorien assures me that I am a good man."  
  
"How do we know that you are who you claim to be?" Aragorn asked, suspicious.  
  
"You do not. I only know that I feel no malice towards you or your own."  
  
"What are you doing here if not to trick us?"  
  
The white head tilted, thinking. "Looking for you, Aragorn. The young ones you seek are not here. The ones whose aid you wish, will not respond to you."  
  
The trio exchanged glances, slightly lowering their arms. "Saruman."  
  
"We must hurry to their aid if he does have them." Gimli made to leave Fangorn, pausing when the others stayed. "Well? What is it?"  
  
"Isengard is heavily defended. It would not be wise to march off alone."  
  
"Gandalf, Eomer is raising an army even as we speak. They should be on the move," Aragorn informed him, only slightly relaxing his guard.  
  
The Istari's eyes met his, "if I wanted you dead, you would be. I have no need to show myself. Go on, I will meet you in three days."  
  
"You do not journey with us?" Legolas asked softly.  
  
"I will bring the aid you seek among the denizens of Fangorn. They will listen to me," his statement silenced any objections.  
  
"Three days," Aragorn repeated, ignoring Gimli's muttered, 'it'll take us two to get out of this place.'  
  
"Yes," Gandalf was calm.  
  
Sheathing their weapons, they bid him a cautious farewell and left. Legolas let down his guard long enough to enjoy the woods. Their stay in Lothlorien had been to full of sorrow and uncertainty for him to enjoy the peace. He felt the need to recharge before the fight began once more.  
  
Gimli, though not as understanding as Aragorn about elves, left his friend in peace. He shook his head, unable to figure out just when he stopped thinking of the elf as an enemy and started naming him dearest of his friends.  
  
Aragorn was braced for the two to argue, even though they'd been on their best behavior over the last few days. The ranger thought that had to do with Gandalf's death. Now that they knew the truth, he expected them to go back to their normal, bickering ways. He was weary and heartsore, things were spinning out of control and the world was turned upside down. When they did not act the way he thought they would, he felt a bone deep relief.  
  
They emerged from the dark woods two and a half days later. The horses were patiently waiting for them. "Do we wait?" Gimli voiced the question in all their minds.  
  
Slowly, Aragorn's head shook, "he said he would meet us." A last glance behind, then they mounted and left. Aragorn pulled his horse to a stop a few hours later, "Elladan? What is it?"  
  
They newly arrived elf urged them to continue moving and they carried on in silence before he spoke, "Rivendell is no longer strong enough to protect Arwen. She has become increasingly more ghoul like. Though she fights the touch of Sauron's poison, he is slowly stealing her strength. She sent you this."  
  
He accepted the note and pendant,   
  
'Elendil, Look for the White Lady of Rohan. Protect her. She alone will stop the Nazgul threat. It is prophecy. I am sorry. I no longer have strength to fight. Arwen.'  
  
"Aragorn, I hate to ask this of you, but let her go."  
  
Pain filled gray eyes met the dark blue of the elf's, the pendant clenched so tightly it was drawing blood. "Tell your father that I release him from his promise. I love her enough to let her go.  
  
Elladan bowed his head, "thank you."  
  
"But if darkness falls and we win, before they have gone, I would like to see her again."  
  
"It will be her decision once more," he agreed before leaving them.  
  
The trio rode on in silence, saying nothing, though Legolas handed Aragorn a clean cloth to bandage his wound. Halfway to Isengard, they were joined by Gandalf and Eomer's army, all of whom bore signs of battle. "What happened?"  
  
"We encountered a few parties of orcs. We decimated them," Eomer replied.  
  
"Excellent," Aragorn rode ahead of them. Gandalf joined him a few minutes later. "I let her go. What else could I do?  
  
"You could have held Elrond to his promise."  
  
"How could I do that? Ask her to endure that fight until our war was done? This battle will be fought for an unknown length of time. Arwen is strong but even the strength of an elf cannot last when the poison is inside and cannot be purged." He sighed.  
  
Gandalf was puzzled, "you did what was right. Why do you doubt?"  
  
Aragorn looked at him for a long time, finding the right words. "I took the away her right to chose. I had no more right to do that than Elrond does."  
  
"She gave you that right when she gave you that," he indicated the pendant. "She knew she could trust you to do the right thing-even though that would cause you greater pain. It was her way of reaffirming her love for you and letting you go in peace. The lady Arwen was telling you good-bye."  
  
Further conversation was made impossible by the wargs and ors that blocked their way. Throwing all his anger, pain, and confusion into the fray, Aragorn lost himself in the blood and turmoil surrounding them. He didn't even try to reign in his bloodlust, he wanted to share his pain with those that caused it.  
  
"Aragorn! You must call a retreat!" Legolas called. "There are reinforcements coming that we cannot defeat."  
  
"We cannot turn back either," he countered. "they must be pushed away."  
  
"Drive them towards Helm's Deep, there's no way out," Eomer counseled.  
  
Only the arrival of Narvanata and her women allowed this plan to be successful. But, upon arriving at Helm's Deep, they were trapped themselves by the wild men. Only Gandalf remained unchallenged, riding through the fighting towards Aragorn. "The Ents are on their way to Isengard," though he spoke softly, they heard him. "And, help is on its way here." Even as he spoke, a virtual rain shower of arrows flew over their heads, felling the armies with unerring accuracy.  
  
The three commanders, under Aragorn's command, pulled out and reformed along the edges, cutting off any enemy that came their way. They also moved slowly up the embankment until they were able to press the wild men into the valley. Finally, they had them bottled up in Helm's Deep.  
  
"We'll hold them here," Eomer offered, "Give the elves our thanks."  
  
Aragorn nodded, following Gandalf over to them. After they spoke for a few minutes, they made their way to Isengard. It was nearing dawn of the second day when the dark shape came into view-completely surrounded by water. Only one spot remained untouched and that was only because Treebeard was keeping it free for them.  
  
"Hello, Gandalf," Treebeard called out. "Have you come to see Saruman? Or our work?"  
  
"You have done well, Treebeard," he praised, introducing his companions as they walked up to him. "Saruman is still within, I presume?"  
  
Treebeard's reply was lost to Aragorn as he gazed up at the tower in shock.  
  
Something high up had caught his eye, something that contrasted sharply with the darkness. A figure dressed in white stood framed in a window, the long blonde hair flowed freely in the breeze. Troubled eyes glanced down and met his own, the head bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "The White Lady," he breathed, ignoring Legolas' questioning look.  
  
Gandalf's hand touched his shoulder, interrupting his study of the place. "This way," he indicated the direction they should go in. Aragorn glanced up, distraught when he couldn't see the lady anymore. Arwen had told him to find and protect her, she was the key to destroying the Nazgul.  
  
He followed Gandalf into the tower and stayed in the background. This was the Istari's battle to fight. A flash of white on the staircase caught his attention, then disappeared into the shadows. Gray eyes narrowed, watching intently to see if it would happen again.  
  
So intent was he that he nearly jumped when two small hands entered his own. Glancing down, he saw Merry and Pippin grinning up at him. Though bruised and a faintly hungry looking, they appeared to be all right. "How did you get free?"  
  
Merry pointed, "she helped us."  
  
He looked in the direction the hobbit was pointing at, there she was. Dressed in a simple, white dress but careful to remain in the shadows, was the woman he had seen. Inside, he felt something click into place and recognize her. "Are you the White Lady of the Rohirrim?"  
  
"I am known to some as such. I prefer Eowyn," she replied scornfully.  
  
Without question, he knew it was because of his awed reaction to her. These Rohirrim women preferred to earn their own name, he recalled Idis' face when he'd addressed her this way. Obviously, he'd have to watch how he spoke to them. They were not elf women, cool and unapproachable. They were human and wanted to be treated as equals.  
  
To Merry and Pippin, he whispered. "Go outside and wait with Gimli." Nodding to Eowyn, they did what he told them to. Moving slowly so as not to bring attention to himself, he removed the elven cloak and passed it to her. "I am Aragorn. It isn't much but ill offer a bit more protection from Saruman's eyes than your white dress."  
  
"My people?" she questioned, accepting it.  
  
"Are under Eomer's care," he elaborated at her inquiring look. "They are finishing off the forces that we trapped at Helm's Deep."  
  
She nodded, approval in her eyes.  
  
"We must leave," Gandalf murmured. "He will not listen to reason." The Istari did not seem surprised to see Eowyn by Aragorn, nor the two hobbits waiting outside.  
  
"He spent most of his time with that," she gestured to the palantir that Gandalf was gingerly handling. "I never thought he'd relinquish it."  
  
"He did not. I summoned it to me," he replied with a shrug.  
  
They left Isengard to its fate, Merry and Pippin exchanging glances when they saw the horses. Gandalf took Pippin and both rode Shadowfax, while Aragorn and Merry shared his. "I am sorry we have no horse for you alone, my lady."  
  
"It is all right, my Brego will be here soon." She spoke with such quiet confidence, no one could quite object. Without another word, she began to walk up the incline towards the armies at Helm's Deep.  
  
The men were quiet, following after her, surrounding and shielding her. Aragorn was torn between offering her his mount-knowing that Hasufel would reject her. And admiration for her determination. "The women of Rohan are truly remarkable."  
  
"Indeed and with good reason, they earned their place." Gandalf agreed, moving to the front of the group. "It is a shame more do not respect it."  
  
Once they cleared the ridge, they saw a brown horse waiting patiently. Without fear, though it had no saddle or bridle, Eowyn leapt up and set off. Even though they were far from Helm's Deep, they could see the signs of a looming cloud. The work of death had not yet terminated its business with Rohan.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
"Eomer!" "Eowyn!" Twin cries of joy rang out into the cooling night, brushing off the pallor of death. "How I have missed you." It was the first time they'd seen each other since the battle had begun.  
  
"How you have surprised me by remaining in control of yourself," she teased. They embraced, holding onto teach other tightly. "You must tell me of your travels and the news from Gondor."  
  
"In exchange for your story. What of Saruman?"  
  
"He yet lives." She answered, pulling back to study him.  
  
"What?" he exploded.  
  
"It was Gandalf's right," she asserted herself firmly. "I feel only pity for the man. He has no true understanding of what he's learned and it killed the man that he was."  
  
His eyes narrowed, "what did he do to you?"  
  
"Nothing," she replied. "But...Saruman was kind to me. There were things he said to me that made me feel good about myself. Yes, I realize he was using my own need for approval against me but still...I can only feel pity for him."  
  
Elrohir watched from the side and saw her shiver. He could not tell, though, if it was from cold night air or the memories that had to be flooding through her. His brother could probably tell him. Thinking of Elladan, he wondered where his brother was. Without him, he felt lonely-especially watching the two human twins.  
  
Making up his mind, he shook off the odd feelings and approached the duo. "Would you like to change? I do not think that outfit is quite comfortable."  
  
"I have nothing suitable," she replied, recovering quickly from the shock of having an elf address her.  
  
"Come, you may borrow something of mine." He forestalled any arguments with a firm, "my brother would do the same."  
  
Eowyn glanced at Eomer uncertainly, "Elladan would. But why are you here, Elrohir?"  
  
"I have some business to conduct with Aragorn in the place of my father. Well, my lady?"  
  
She nodded, "thank you, Lord Elrohir."  
  
"Just Elrohir," he bowed, "Lady Eowyn."  
  
"Eowyn will suffice," she smiled slightly, knowing that calling her 'Lady' wasn't true anymore. Once changed, she rejoined the men and Narvanata. They conversed for a few minutes before she and her brother went off to talk privately. Together, the two talked long into the night, sheltered by the combined forces of elves and men.  
  
"Eowyn?" Aragorn hesitantly called out, "a moment of your time?"  
  
Rising, she made her way to him, his cloak folded in her arms. "Here," she gave it back to him, surprised when he didn't accept it. "Why?"  
  
"You need it more than I," his reply was soft. "I have a message for you."  
  
She looked at him, curious. "What is it?"  
  
But he was silent, as though he didn't know what or how to say it. There was something tense about him. The message, she knew, would destroy any semblance of peace she'd managed to attain. "Aragorn, your silence is a mark of concern but I cannot reply to a message whose meaning I do not know. Have you not yet realized that we are stronger than we seem?" But her teasing was soft, gentle. "Is this about the prophecy?"  
  
Gray eyes widened, "you know?"  
  
"It is a common story among the Shield Maidens. But until I heard Saruman mention it, I thought that was all it was. A story. What is this all about, Aragorn? I never had the chance to look for answers."  
  
"Do you know of the Nazgul?" He waited for her nod of affirmation. "The prophecy speaks of the one who can stop him-the White Lady of Rohan. With the aid of a half-ling," he spoke the rest, startled. It had never occurred to him that Arwen's message was incomplete until he spoke it aloud to Eowyn. But it hadn't been until he spoke those final words.  
  
"That's why," she murmured, forgetting his presence.  
  
"Why what?" he prodded when she said nothing more.  
  
She faced him, "what?"  
  
"You acted like I revealed something unexpected but known to you."  
  
"When I met Merry, I felt compelled to say, 'I am a knight in search of a squire.' He told me, 'I am that squire.' But afterwards, we could not say why we had done so, even though it felt right."  
  
End, Part 11. 


	12. Chapter Tweleve and the end

Author's Note: There are a few direct quotes in here. Plus, my own personal feelings about what was really going on between Aragorn and Eowyn. As for the Rohirrim royalty, that's my own personal feelings based on a few things I've read recently.  
  
Part 12  
  
Gandalf stopped Pippin from using the palantir but know that the young hobbit would be in danger from it. Leaving it in Aragorn's care, he took the hobbit with him and immediately departed for Gondor. "The danger is even greater now," he explained.  
  
Eowyn, Eomer, Aragorn, and Narvanata watched them go before turning around. "What now, your majesty?"  
  
Aragorn was puzzled by the fact that it was directed towards Eowyn. She, on the other hand, seemed to find nothing wrong with it. Or surprising about it. "We split up the army into several small divisions. Dernhelm shall be in charge of homeland security. Where is he anyway?"  
  
"I sent him to retrieve Theoden's sword, majesty. It is now yours, right?" There was a faint question in his voice, one that her slow nod answered.  
  
"Thank you, Eomer. The other two should be made ready to travel to Gondor. I hesitate to suggest a course of action for Lord Aragorn as I am sure he has his own path to travel to Gondor. Our men are at you disposal. The best idea is to try to surround the enemy and fill in any blank areas inside the city itself. I believe you did say that its defenses are sadly lacking?"  
  
"Very much so," Narvanata agreed.  
  
"Then, I trust you to chose those who can get inside and support the walls. Dernhelm?" she questioned.  
  
The knight knelt before her, extending the naked weapon in his hands. "King Eowyn, we return this symbol of your kingship to you. May it guard and guide you as it has all those who have used it before you."  
  
She accepted it with a nod, "thank you, Dernhelm. Rest yourself and your men for a bit, we shall be on the move again soon. Narvanata, take a small scouting party, find out the road conditions and the quickest and safest route to Gondor. Eomer, check the weapons supply. If we have enough, check their condition. If what we have is troublesome and can't be repaired, take a party of scavengers. I shall go among the people and separate them into parties. Lord Aragorn, if you would accompany me?"  
  
They sprang into action and Eowyn set off, sword in hand. "I must remember to get a sheath for this. Lord Aragorn, what troubles you now?" There was the slightest sound of exasperation in her voice.  
  
"Dernhelm called you King Eowyn," he said. "Your brother yielded the sword to you."  
  
"He did. Uncle Theoden disowned him before his death. As heir, I am the rightful possessor of the sword." Her iron voice was firm.  
  
"But King?"  
  
"What of it? To my people, when the female inherits, she becomes King. It has always been thus since the first princess to inherit. King Kristina's father declared her to be his heir and said that she would be raised as a prince would. Since that day, all girls born in the royal house are raised as princes," she elaborated.  
  
"What of heirs?"  
  
"It is up to the ruler in question. Some chose an heir among the many cousins that are born. They are raised by the ruler to take over one day. Others chose to marry and have children. As for myself, I shall never marry and plan to reinstate Eomer as heir."  
  
Aragorn walked silently by her side, "to never marry seems a lonely lot, majesty."  
  
"That is your opinion, Lord Aragorn, not my own. I shall not marry where I do not love, nor am loved in return. Which of these would you chose for your own party?" she ended their conversation.  
  
"If its all the same to you, Elrohir brought word that the Rangers are riding to me. I shall travel with them, Legolas, and Gimli along the Parth Galen."  
  
Eowyn gasped, stopping to face him. "The Paths of the Dead, lord? Are you sure that is wise? For I would not wish that something so noble be set upon a path that can only lead to destruction."  
  
"They will give us the aid necessary if I call. You know who I am, I can and will enforce their oath."  
  
"Would that I were a stronger person, I would keep these words locked inside. Do not go, my lord, I fear for your soul. Those that go down that benighted road, never return. I do not desire that something that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."  
  
"Lady, I did not mean to distress you," he caught and squeezed her hand. "I take your words, not those of a coward, but those of a friend. Let your mind be at ease, I know that what I am to do is right." For he felt it was true. There was in her a reflection of himself. She was afraid, like he was. But unlike him, she had the courage to face it. In her eyes, he saw the king he was meant to be. He vowed to be worthy of her friendship.  
  
And may be, someday, her love. If that was never to be, he would be content with her friendship.  
  
Something passed between them, "then let it be as you wish. I shall say no more." They walked off in silence. Eowyn nodded firmly after a while, "I must see to my men."  
  
"Lady?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If I live through this, I shall come for you and we shall ride together." He left to join the arriving rangers.  
  
"You shall make it, of that I have no doubt," she murmured.  
  
The next morning, Aragorn and his riders rode away. He took one last glance behind and saw Eowyn watching him. Turning back, only those who knew him could see the pain he carried with him. Friend or a love dearer to him than he expected after Arwen, he cared only that he see her alive and well.  
  
For he knew that her path as king would take her to Gondor. King Eowyn would lead them into battle. And he feared what might come from her battle against the King of Angmar.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
Outside Gondor:  
  
King Eowyn rode at the head of the Rohirrim army. To her right, Eomer sat, and on her left, Narvanata. "Join your queen in battle, Narvanata. We must be a cohesive unit, so I shall have the men stay out of your way."  
  
With a nod, the Shield Maid rode away.  
  
"Eomer, any word of aid?"  
  
"The sky is clear," he replied.  
  
She was silent for a moment, "I hate to be precipitate but we cannot allow the walls to fall any farther. Take your men and lead them well," she decided.  
  
"See you on the inside!" he saluted and left. Once he was in position, he gave the signal to wait until Idis and Eowyn gave the joint signal. Three armies charged into the fighting arena, driving the forces from the walls. In the front lines, urging the enemies on, was the King of Angmar.  
  
Merry leaned over, pointing him out. "Our moment, my king, is at hand." He returned to his position, clutching his elven knife tightly in his hand.  
  
"Then we shall ride to meet it, Sir Merriadoc," she replied grimly. Turning Brego, she forced him to approach the dark shape surrounded by rotting, stinking beings.  
  
As they drew nearer, the malevolent being turned and watched them. Brego tried to turn away but Eowyn held her firmly in place. "Insolent warrior. Know ye not who I am?"  
  
She coolly stared at him, no answer but to tighten her grip on her blade. Around them, the sounds of the battle seemed to slow and quiet down. There was only the three of them, silently dueling it out.  
  
A cold laugh passed dead lips, "foolishness. No living man may harm the King of Angmar."  
  
"how brave your words for one who will fall by the blade of Rohan's king."  
  
He grunted in surprise at the strength of the blows. "The brave words are your. Why waste your life in such futility? Sauron may have a place for one such as you."  
  
Flinging aside her helmet, she proudly proclaimed. "I am Eowyn, Shield Maiden and King of the Rohirrim. I willingly bow to no one."  
  
Incensed, he brought down his sword with a mighty blow that knocked Merry and Eowyn off Brego. She rose unsteadily to her feet and drove her blade deep into the thick skin of the Nazgul lord's mount, evening the playing field once again. Swords clashed, sending off sparks of light and heat. She grunted as he bent her back and towards the ground, gaining the upper hand when she stumbled. Merry darted out and struck him in the shin, moving back when he turned to search for him.  
  
The warrior rolled over and lashed out with her whip, causing him to stumble and turn back to her. Their blades locked ferociously against each other. Dancing around each other, they were unaware of the battle stopping around them as the forces watched. Of to the side, Merry waited and rushed out when Eowyn went down with a cry as her arm landed with a sickening crack on the ground.  
  
Driving his blade in deep, he heard the satisfying shriek of pain and rage come from the dark creature. Taking another chance, he slashed its other leg. The Nazgul turned and flung him back. Pale and shaky, Eowyn rose and blocked his blade, forcing it to turn with hers. With the last of her strength, she used the blade to severe the head from the neck and shoulders.  
  
Merry rushed to her side as the armies of darkness began to flee, "majesty?"  
  
Eowyn looked at him, smiling faintly. "Take this to my broir. Tell Eomer that the kingdom is his." Whisper soft voice, her eyes closed and her breathing slowly faded.  
  
The young squire cried out, pulling her into a tighter embrace. Golden hair spilled down her back and mingled in the dirt and blood on the ground. Blood pooled from the open wound on her arm and traced grotesque patterns on the exposed white skin. Tears coursed down Merry's checks, cutting through the grime and leaving ghostly behind.  
  
Eomer and Aragorn pushed their way through the carnage. Legolas and Gimli covering their backs while Elladan and Elrohir tried to make sense of what they were babbling about. Elladan immediately reached for his supply of Athelas. In Aragorn's hands, they would heal the dying ruler. Aragorn didn't even hesitate, kneeling beside her to administer to the wounds. Already the hand of death was staking its claim. But none of the men there would give it victory.  
  
"Eomer, led the charge. Push them back, I need more time," Aragorn ordered through tense lips.  
  
Elladan allowed him no chance to object. Taking his arm in a strong grip, he led him into the press of fighting men. Fury at the situation fueled his natural strength and he pushed through the enemy.  
  
Hours later, she rested peacefully in the House of Healing. Pale but no longer a deadly white, her arm bound tightly to her chest to prevent her from re-breaking it. Her leg was tightly bound as well, luckily both breaks had been clean. A thin scar crossed the side of her face. It would fade in time, but would mar her features. Too others, it was a mark of shame. But to her and her people, a badge of courage.  
  
Aragorn sat by the bed, counting her inhalations and exhalations. Three days had passed since the battle and she had only awakened once. He buried his head in his hands, sighing deeply. All his own efforts had been for naught, another voice had called her back. Why was he so upset about that? Should he not be thankful that she was back among the living?  
  
Boromir found Aragorn still there when he made his rounds an hour before dawn. "You will make yourself ill with waiting, my king."  
  
Aragorn sighed, "she did not come when I called."  
  
"Why does this trouble you?" he asked, forcing him to his feet.  
  
"I don't know," he shrugged. "May be I felt that her love for me would bring her back. I thought that we were friends."  
  
"Aragorn, I know her better than you. She is your friend."  
  
"Then why did she not come?"  
  
"Why should she? She knew of your strength and nobility, she knew you would survive the path you had chosen. There was no doubt in her mind for the darkness to work with, no fear for it to feast upon. Since he could not torment her with visions of you fallen and trapped, why would she follow you? She stayed because she believed her brother was there, his fate was in question for her."  
  
By this point, the Steward's son and his king were at the rooms Denethor had reluctantly given to him. From the thoughtful look on Aragorn's face, he knew that he was processing the words. "Rest, my lord, tomorrow we will see my father."  
  
Gandalf waited in the shadows, "how is he?" The question came when both men were alone in the hall.  
  
"Which?" he asked rhetorically, knowing that Istari knew he'd been with his father all day, arguing about Aragorn. "My father is mad. And our only hope is confused by his perceived failure. I fear the only one who can alleviate that fear still lies abed, deeply asleep."  
  
"What think you of Aragorn and Eowyn?"  
  
"I think it is too soon for either of them make any such commitments. Aragorn, though he may deny it, is a romantic. He senses their similarities and wishes to make her a part of his life. The problem is, he met her after letting go Arwen. There is a confusion about him, the fact that he is drawn inexplicably to this mortal woman. I fear for him. Eowyn is a practical woman, she examines everything carefully. Knowing her, she may feel that their deeper emotions are only be battle love."  
  
"Not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, is she?" The Istari mused, "I wish the same could be said of Aragorn. I have heard much speculation about them."  
  
"Yes, he sees much of himself in her," Boromir yawned. "She won't let him sway her. The belief in herself is awe inspiring, Aragorn is trying to emulate her."  
  
"He is, which isn't a bad thing."  
  
"But he may become dependent on her," Boromir worried.  
  
"Ah, now who is making snap judgments. Aragorn has more strength than he knows and it is emerging." Gandalf smiled, "I shall find Pippin. You should rest."  
  
"My father is quite taken with him," he mentioned tiredly.  
  
"Yes. I had hoped that he would regain his humanity through association with him. Alas, that is not to be," he murmured quietly.  
  
"Where is Faramir? I thought he arrived with that party."  
  
"This I do not yet know, but I did see him." He replied, a slight frown marring his face. "I shall endeavor to find out."  
  
They parted then and Gandalf made his way to the chamber rooms Denethor had taken refuge in. The state of the man frightened Gandalf, though logically he knew he should be beyond such emotions.  
  
Pippin raced towards him, "Gandalf! I tried to stop him but he...he...took him down there, with a torch, claiming he was dead."  
  
"Slow down, Pippin. Who?"  
  
"Lord Denethor. He's taken the Lord Faramir down there. Says he's dead and needs to be burned since they can't bury him."  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked, even as they ran down the hall.  
  
Pippin's head nodded furiously, "I was there when they brought him in. Lord Denethor tried to cure him himself but whatever it was proved to be to strong. He wouldn't let anyone summon Aragorn, didn't believe that a 'dirty ranger' would be of any help."  
  
"How was he injured?"  
  
"One of the Nazguls got him while he tried to buy time for Frodo and Sam to escape," he panted. "A few days ago. What do I do?"  
  
"You've done all you can. The rest is in the Valinor's hands." Gandalf's reply was grim, "go to the House of Healing and make sure someone's there with Athelas. They must use that if they are to heal him. I shall see to Denethor."  
  
Somehow, Pippin was relieved to leave the situation in Gandalf's hands. He had become fond of the Gondorian Lord. The man had given him a chance and it hurt to see him act this way. The room was ready when Faramir was brought in, a tired Aragorn behind him.  
  
/-/-/-/  
  
Frodo, Sam, and Gollum struggled up them slope of Mount Doom. For a while, they had been pursued by the Nazgul but they had suddenly stopped their attack and changed direction. The trio were to relieved to question and, though Sam was wary of their guide, the journey was quiet.  
  
"It knows what we plan to do, Sam," Frodo's voice was soft.  
  
"I'm here for you, Master Frodo. Keep your eyes on the goal," Sam panted but kept positive. "We'll make it."  
  
"Oh, Sam," he said no more as they pressed forward. Stumbling a bit the higher they went, he was relieved to feel the familiar arm of his friend urge him on.  
  
"A few more steps and we'll be there," he encouraged. "Lean on me, I've got you safe and secure, Master Frodo."  
  
Gollum followed, knowing that timing was everything. "Precious," he cooed softly, not wanting the fat one to hear him. That one was nasty and suspicious, he was. Never left him alone with his precious. Always watching and waiting.  
  
As they made their way up, Aragorn was leading a company towards the Black Gates. It was hoped that they would prove to be a distraction to keep Sauron's eye on them. Idis rode Eowyn's place and they conversed quietly. The other shield maidens were dispersed among the men, never allowing the darkness to affect them. It stiffened the spines of the men who were unwilling to let the women show them up.  
  
"Lord Aragorn, we would have been happy to stay behind and defend Gondor," Idis commented. "Why did you ask us to accompany you?"  
  
"It seems Sauron was not as blind to your worth as we," he sheepishly replied. "His Nazgul are impervious to living men, but not so to women."  
  
"So, it is up to us to destroy them?" she asked. "You have earned my admiration."  
  
"And you mine, Queen Idis."  
  
After the battle, back in Gondor, there was a large celebration. It was tradition and a sign that the dark times were truly over. Still filled with trepidation, Aragorn accepted the crown and all it entailed. There were speeches and presentations of the heroes of the war. Songs were sung and a large feast was held but it was the final day of the week long ceremony which Aragorn dreaded.  
  
It would be his first official speech as king, the one most would remember him by.  
  
"Lady, what am I to say?"  
  
Eowyn rested against the headboard, "what's in your heart."  
  
"But what if nothing comes?"  
  
"Something will, majesty. Stop fearing it," she chuckled.  
  
He stopped pacing, glaring. "You would not be so calm if you were in my shoes."  
  
"I highly doubt that," she ironically said. "Then again, we don't wear the same size, I'd probably trip and fall."  
  
Aragorn laughed, "how can you joke?"  
  
"Easy. I open my mouth and the words just come," she smiled. "What's really wrong?"  
  
He sat down, looking at her. "I loved once and lost her. There is someone else who fills my heart, yet she would refuse me. I am not prepared to run a kingdom, yet I must because it is my destiny. It's in my blood, what could possibly be wrong?"  
  
"Aragorn, what we have is truly a wonderful thing. But is it love? I believe that it is one kind of love, that of friends of the soul. Could it become more? We shall see. Ask no more of me, nor yourself now. I believe that you have some lose ends to tie up."  
  
With that, he had to be satisfied.  
  
The day came. Gandalf announced him and he rose unsteadily to his feet. Every eye turned to him in silence and he cleared his throat. Mind blank, he cast about desperately for something to say. A song came to mind and he allowed it to come forth, filling him with calm.  
  
Gray eyes darted about the room, lighting upon each face in turn and words flowed from his lips, each one sincere. "There are many things I could say but two come to mind with the most certainty-thank you. These words are not just for the warriors who fought on the battlefields. Each of us had a part in this war. Bearing a ring to destruction.  
  
"Tending to the wounded. Keeping the fields fertile and filled with food. Caring for the sickened souls. Holding aloft the light of hope. Standing firm when all around was decaying and filled with death. Everyone served a valuable part in this war. I boldly state that we would not have won if it was not for all of these things. From the depths of my soul, I thank you and promise to try my best to live up to my duties as king."  
  
"Hear, hear!" King Eowyn called into the silence and limped forward. Awkwardly, she dropped to her knees, "I pledge my eternal loyalty to you as High King. If ever you need the aid of Rohan, it is yours."  
  
One by one, the nobles did the same. He went to each one and helped them to their feet, accepting their oaths. Last of all, he helped Eowyn rise to her feet, "only as High King?"  
  
Her smile slowly came, "and as your friend."  
  
"Nothing more?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.  
  
"It is to soon for more, your majesty, as well you know."  
  
"I had to try," he let her go with a smile.  
  
The End.  
  
Author's Note: I always believed that Aragorn loved Eowyn more than she did him, thus it is written that way. He never pitied her, unlike Faramir-it says so in the book. Nor did she enter the battlefield because of him, she's not fragile. She survived the hell that Wormtongue brought into her life. She is a strong, capable woman who knew where her duty and loyalty lay. If she couldn't fight with the one who saw her potential, she would fight with her people.  
  
As Tolkien had originally wanted Aragorn to be with Eowyn but changed his mind, I decided to leave this open-ended and let the readers decide what happened to them in the end. If this bothers some people, remember that this is my opinion and let me have the freedom to have it without flaming me. 


End file.
